Rebuilding
by PhoenixInAshes
Summary: In the aftermath of the gun scare at McKinley, Blaine had expected to have to deal with the repercussions mostly on his own. Until an unexpected text led him to the realization that maybe he wasn't as alone as he thought. -Warnings- (for entire fic): Aftermath of school violence, PTSD symptoms, discussions of self-harming behaviors.
1. Chapter 1

Everyone keeps telling him how he's feeling is completely natural.

"It's okay to be scared. It's okay to be angry. It's okay to be sad." The counselors, the teachers, even his _parents_ are all quick to reassure. Blaine wishes they would stop telling him all the ways in which how he's feeling is to be _expected_.

Because all those words they keep using…he just doesn't _feel_ them. Blaine isn't actually sure _how_ he feels most of the time, but if he had to describe it, it wouldn't be scared, sad, or angry. If anything, the first word that comes to mind is _numb_.

While it was happening, yes, terror was a constant companion. Fear of the unknown, of the world outside that chorus room, fear of being hurt or killed, fear of the people he loves being hurt or killed. Fear of weapons, and of students that he knew and attended school with everyday who suddenly became capable of this kind of violence. Then, in the immediate aftermath, when safety had been established, the feeling of half hysterical relief.

That first night, he couldn't sleep because every time he closed his eyes he could feel the dark of the chorus room closing in around him and leaving him slipping into overwhelming memories of terrified faces and desperate confessions and camera's demanding he bare his soul, _just in case_. Blaine couldn't then, and still can't, contemplate _just in case_. He purposefully shuts down all thoughts of _what if_ as soon as they make their way into his head. He knows he's shutting down, refusing to _acknowledge_, refusing to deal, but he doesn't know how else to handle this.

He's supposed to be the strong one. The one everyone depends on. He can't afford to fall apart. The rest of them, they draw on him for strength. But he doesn't know where he's supposed to draw enough strength for himself from, never mind enough for the rest of them to pull from him. He's the Senior Class President, he's supposed to lead by example. He's supposed to have words of inspiration for the students around him to help them move forward. He doesn't know how to do that. How is he supposed to move forward when his mind is constantly thrown back into the past? Fear and pain collide into each other until Blaine thinks he may never get out from underneath it.

Classes exhaust him. Fear betrays him. His body hasn't been able to fully come down from high alert since the first shot echoed down the corridor. Loud noises and unexpected touches make him flinch. Panic lurks at the edges of his consciousness. And so his mind does the only thing it can think of to cope. It shuts down. Turns off emotion. Blaine can only cope right now by simply existing. By focusing on each individual task that stands between him and the days end. He focuses on _actions_, carefully avoiding _feelings_.

He knows it isn't healthy. He knows he can't keep it up. The emotions are always simmering just below the surface. But he can't handle them right now. And he can't share them with anyone.

It's the isolation in the middle of a crowd that's wearing at him. Blaine thrives on interaction. He has an inherit need to be with people, to please people, to be appreciated. But right now, he can't deal with people. His friends from Glee are all trying with various degrees of success to deal with the same trauma he is. He doesn't feel comfortable burdening them with his own issues, and he is so overwhelmed most of the time that he can't imagine having the capability at present to help them with theirs. Their mutual experiences are more of a trigger and a hindrance to recovery at the moment. They are all so traumatized that they can't quite get to the point of looking outside of themselves yet. Blaine can't fault them for that. He hasn't reached that point either.

His family tries their best to be supportive, but it's a struggle for all of them. Vulnerability is not typically expressed or received well in the Anderson household. Of course, something of this magnitude has never occurred before, either. And Blaine has been totally blown away by the effort his parents put into being there for him. That first night, when they just held each other and cried, was something Blaine doesn't remember _ever_ having occurred before, even after the Sadie Hawkins Dance. His father's usual stoic demeanor had developed some definite cracks that Blaine had never expected to see. He doesn't remember even seeing his parents cry before that night.

But they still have no idea how to handle this, not really. They tiptoe around him now, as if fearful that they could set his PTSD symptoms off with a single unexpected gesture or unkind word. They discuss how Blaine's _doing_, yet somehow miss the more important question of how Blaine is _feeling_.

Blaine still hasn't managed to talk to Kurt yet. Part of him wants so, so badly to just pick up the phone and collapse into the safety of Kurt's voice on the other end. But Blaine still isn't sure where he stands with Kurt. He's not ready to have that conversation. And perhaps he is being stupid, but he's deathly afraid that when Kurt hears of this, hears how much more broken it has left Blaine, he won't have the heart to stand beside him anymore. Blaine can't afford to lose Kurt. He will talk to him, eventually, but he's not prepared to yet. The very thought is more terrifying than reassuring. He's not even sure if Kurt has heard what happened yet. It's only been a few days.

Blaine has just about reconciled himself to the fact that he's going to have to just get through this on his own, without any outside help, when he gets a text from a totally unexpected source. He's not going to lie to himself, he actually has a fair amount of reservations about responding, but at this point he's desperate enough to seek shelter at any port offering help in the middle of this storm. And while the students at McKinley are so close to the tragedy, and he can't see them as anything more than a painful reminder, the students behind the text are removed enough from the occurrence that maybe, just maybe, they can assist Blaine in finding some peace.

Which is why, when Blaine get's a text from Trent saying, "Blaine- so, so sorry to hear. r u ok? come see us? please?" he actually texts back to the Warbler's, arranging to meet them at Dalton that Saturday. They were his friends, once. Trent still is. And despite all the trouble the last year had brought between them all, Blaine thinks maybe this is something big enough to bring them all back together. And he's feeling pretty desperate at this point. So he's willing to make the effort.


	2. Chapter 2

When Blaine had been a student at Dalton, he had reached a point where he had become so used to their security precautions that he barely even registered them anymore. Although with the number of students from affluent or influential families, he had always believed the security was in place more to keep rich parents feeling safe in the knowledge that their children were being well protected from _outside_ threats than they were geared towards possible violence from the students themselves. No one ever really expected the danger to come from within until it actually happened to them.

Blaine flashed his license at the main gate and was waved through. The guard was the same man who worked there when Blaine had been enrolled. He figured Trent had probably given the staff a heads up to expect him. It was true Dalton was more secure than McKinley had been. Id's were carefully checked and contact information stored for each person who entered the grounds, particularly those who weren't enrolled. Metal detectors had always been subtly placed in the educational buildings, although not the residential ones. For all their forethought, Blaine couldn't help but notice the lapses and possible ways for someone to enter with a gun. He hated that his first reaction to every new environment had become to to check for possible risks and search out every exit before he could even think about relaxing.

He parked in the visitor's lot and made his way towards Trent's dorm. Arriving at the building, he hit the buzzer outside the door that would alert those inside that someone without a key card was seeking access. The door unlocked without anyone checking to see who was there or calling over the intercom. Before, he wouldn't have given it a thought. People came and went constantly. Boys forgot their cards. Deliveries were made. Friends and family members visited. _He himself_ used to hit the unlock buzzer after the bell had rung into the common room without checking to see who was there. But now, the _what if's_ he tried so hard to shut down were threatening to overtake his brain with terrifying scenarios of intruders with violent intentions. Blaine tried to clamp down on the thoughts and bury them. To focus on his destination and shut down his emotional responses. He started up the stairs to Trent's floor, carefully counting each step along the way. It was a coping method he had devised the first day back to school when he was trying to avoid the constant chatter going on around him. Counting gave him something to focus on. As long as he kept a steady list of numbers going in his head, it left little room for other things. When his thoughts really started racing, he would start doing math in his head. Adding, subtracting, finding square roots, anything to distract him. Numbers were safe. Numbers were flat and logical. There wasn't any emotions or memories trying to attach themselves to numbers.

Blaine found himself outside of Trent's door at step 137. He hesitated, trying to find the courage to knock. First meetings with people after the incident were always the worst. No one knew how to respond to him. And the few people Blaine had run into who hadn't actually been closely involved were the worst to deal with. His family and the McKinley students and staff at least could recognize what he was going through. His family understood his fear because it became their fear when faced with the realization that they could have lost him that day. They didn't understand the terror _during_ the event, but they understood the fear that came _after_. The students and staff at McKinley knew all too well what he was feeling. The counselors they had brought in were trained to deal with the aftermath. People who hadn't been there, and were nothing more than casual observers, however, were awful to deal with. After the first trip to the grocery store with his mom a couple of days after, Blaine stopped going out in public. Because McKinley was the topic of conversation _everywhere_. People would bring it up around him, or even _to_ him. The first time, he had made the mistake of saying he had _been_ there, hoping desperately it would make the woman _stop discussing it_ in front of him.

It hadn't. Her eyes had lit up and she had bombarded him with questions. What exactly had happened? How did it feel? Did he think he was going to die? Did he know if there was something the media wasn't telling them? What did he think when the gunshots went off? Blaine had been overwhelmed and horrified and triggered and angry at her barrage of questions. How did she _think_ it would feel? Why did she even want to know? To her, what happened to him was just an exciting story for her to tell her friends. He was nothing but a source of _gossip_ to her.

He had been just standing there, completely at a loss as to how to respond to this nosy, clueless woman in front of him. He could feel the edges of his vision fading to black as his own thoughts started to overwhelm him. It couldn't have been more than a minute or two before his mother was suddenly at his side. She hadn't been letting him too far out of her sight since she had shown up with his father at the school that day when the faculty had wanted to ensure that each student had someone to go home with and wouldn't let anyone leave without an adult to release them to in the immediate aftermath.

He was still in awe of the way his mother had responded. Anderson's were expected to be polite, quiet, and mild mannered at all times. Disputes and disagreements were handled in a calm and non-confrontational manner. That day however, the mother he had known had been replaced by a angry mother grizzly bear who just noticed a threat to her cub. She was suddenly in between him and the woman, blocking the busybody from his line of view. She had simultaneously slipped an arm arm around his waist, drawing him close to her and into her protection, and proceeded to verbally lash out at the woman with a fury that probably should have shaken Blaine, but somehow managed to simply reassure him. He hadn't expected his mother to go to his defense like that.

But the encounter stayed with him. It was the worst one, but by no means the only one. People wanted to understand what happened. They wanted to peer inside Blaine's brain and see what that kind of fear _meant_. What it _did_ to a person. Blaine just wanted to forget.

He did trust the Warblers, when it came down to it. If he didn't, he wouldn't have come. Despite everything, he had faith in their friendship, and their desire to simply be there for him and help him. He especially trusted Trent, who had gone up against every other Warbler and betrayed them to help Blaine because it had been the _right_ thing to do. Trent had told him what the aftermath of that fiasco had been like. Blaine might be damaged and broken at the moment, but so were the Warbler's, in their own way. They could understand what it was like to not be ok, to need help. But at the same time, they didn't actually need _him_ to fix them. They had their own problems, but they could work through them without him. It was a strangely liberating feeling, to know that he didn't have to go in there with his facade of Everything's Fine on. They did not need that from him.

And so, with hands that were just slightly shaky, Blaine knocked on Trent's door.


	3. Chapter 3

The door opened to reveal Trent's slightly anxious face behind it. "Blaine!" he exclaimed, features relaxing into a smile, "you came!"

Blaine smiled back at him. "I told you I would." He gestured at the door. "Can I come in?"

Trent jumped backwards. "Sorry! Sorry, of course. Don't mind me, I'm just really glad you came. We were afraid you would…change your mind." Trent backed away from the door and gestured for Blaine to enter.

Blaine walked into the room, eyes automatically scanning every surface. Nick and Jeff were both sitting on one of the beds in the room, smiling awkwardly at him. The room was otherwise empty of people. Blaine made a mental note of safest hiding place in the room-_ bed? or turn the desk over? the bed's bigger…_-and then carefully turned back to the door and closed and locked it. He swiveled to face the room just in time to see Nick and Jeff exchange a sympathetic glance between themselves. Blaine didn't care. The room was safer with the door locked. If anyone else was coming, they could _knock_. He wasn't going to chance a panic attack just because he couldn't stop thinking about the open door.

Trent looked torn, like he wanted to hug him, but wasn't sure if he could. Blaine appreciated his restraint. Trent was a naturally affectionate person. He liked contact. Blaine very carefully made himself reach forward and wrap his arms around Trent. He felt Trent relax into his touch. Blaine _could_ do this for him. Blaine himself didn't mind the contact, as long as he started it, or the other person's actions were very obviously telegraphed beforehand. People who suddenly came up to him and hugged him or touched him left him gasping for breath. They catapulted his mind back into hypersensitive Prepare For Attack mode.

Blaine broke away from Trent and turned to Nick and Jeff. Both boys waved a hand at him. Nick nodded. "Hey, Blaine."

Blaine smiled back at them. "Hey, guys."

He hated that it felt so awkward. He longed for the time when he was still part of the group and interaction came easily and naturally. He didn't really resent either boy. They had gotten wrapped up in first Sebastian and then Hunter's schemes, but neither of them had personally hurt him outside of the slushee incident that all the Warbler's were complicit in. Blaine had forgiven _Sebastian_ for that at this point, he wasn't going to hold it against the rest of them. Things had gotten out of hand, but they hadn't intended to injure him. Both Trent and Nick had called him after it happened, distraught over their part in it. Jeff had been there with Nick for the phone call, too upset over the whole thing to actually talk to Blaine himself. Nick had needed to relay his apologies. Blaine suspected Jeff was harder on himself than he could ever be. So out of any of them, those three were the easiest for him to deal with. Blaine figured they had probably planned it that way, for it to be Nick, Jeff, and Trent that Blaine had first contact with.

Nick gestured to the chair in the corner of the room. "Do you want to sit? How are you holding up? If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, we just…we wanted to make sure you're okay." He trailed off. "I have no idea what I'm saying…"

Blaine shrugged as he took the seat. "I'm…okay as can be expected, I guess? It was pretty terrifying actually. They've had crisis counselors in the school since that day in case anyone wants to talk. The teachers want to _talk_. The students want to _talk_. Random people on the street want to _talk_. I just want it all to_ go away_." He sighed. "I'm getting tired of all the _talking_."

"They're trying to make sense of it," Jeff stated quietly. "They talk about it a lot here. Especially since so many of us knew people from McKinley. Knew you. Plus, for the Warbler's, it was something to talk about other than…" he trailed off.

Nick completed the sentence, his voice defeated. "Other than the giant fiasco that has become the Warbler legacy. We are all so screwed. McKinley is a sucky place to be right now Blaine, but you can at least be glad you don't have the title Warbler attached to you right now. It's kind of…a mess. _We're_ kind of a mess." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, you're going through enough. I shouldn't be going on about our stupid issues. We brought them on ourselves."

Jeff looked down, staring at his hands. Nick reached over and put an arm around his shoulders. "Stop it. I know what you're thinking. And everyone played their part. You need to stop blaming yourself."

Blaine watched Jeff with concern. The other boy looked _ashamed_. Blaine didn't like the look on him at all. "No, I don't mind listening. Guys, I've done nothing for the last couple weeks but talk about what happened at McKinley. I'm kind of _sick of it_. Tell me what's going on with the Warbler's? What happened after Sectional's? All I've heard is what Trent's told me."

Nick looked distinctly uncomfortable. "We were a mess. And we were so mad at Trent. We kind of…made life hard for him. For a while. When he told about the steroids, the school freaked out. We got disqualified, there was talk about expelling us all. Our parents freaked out. I think the only reason we're still all here is because they couldn't afford to lose that many students with that many influential and tuition paying parents." He turned to Trent. "I still regret how we all followed Hunter. We should have stuck by you."

Trent shook his head. "I didn't want to hurt you guys. I just…what you were doing was hurting _yourselves_. You were all angry all the time. I could see how the drugs were affecting you. That wasn't who we are. I was afraid of how far we would actually fall. And after Hunter started having those rage episodes, I was scared one of you would really get hurt, or hurt someone else…"

Rage episodes. That…didn't sound good. Blaine asked, "Where is Hunter now?"

Trent answered, "His parents pulled him out of school. They put him in a 30 day inpatient drug rehab program. They'll see at the end of the 30 days if he can come back or if he'll need more intensive therapy. He's…apparently had this problem longer than just since he got the Warbler's started. He couldn't stop on his own."

Blaine nodded. "And the rest of you?"

Nick looked regretful. "Being allowed to stay on the Warbler's didn't come without…repercussions. The school took over. We now have a faculty adviser that everything has to be run through. No more Captain's or Council. We're all required to attend regular individual therapy and group drug and alcohol abuse classes. They have mandatory drug testing. We kind of have to stick together. I don't think any of the other students are very…impressed with us right now."

Blaine winced. No, he didn't imagine they would have been. Blaine wished he could understand how it had gotten that far for them. These were not the Warbler's Blaine had been a part of.

"It's good you're all getting help though…it sounds like…maybe you could use it?" Blaine didn't want to sound demeaning, but he was relieved there were steps being taken to get them all back on track.

Trent nodded. "We're working on it. I'm going to everything too. Even though I didn't actually take the drugs, we figured it wouldn't be a bad idea to talk to someone. Or to attend the classes in a show of unity." He knelt down next to Jeff, who was looking even more despondent, the further the conversation went. Blaine was getting more concerned about him by the minute.

"We're going to beat this thing," Trent said softly, hand on Jeff's shoulder. "All of us together, okay?"

Jeff nodded, shakily.

Blaine wasn't sure what was making Jeff feel so guilty, but he knew what regret felt like. And fear of the unknown. He would help them if he could. It would be a good way to distract himself from his own thoughts. He spent so much time wrapped up in his own problems. Maybe helping the Warbler's through _theirs_ would help him sort though his _own_ as well. He was determined to at least try.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This part does contain a discussion of past self-harm; though not in any graphic detail.**

Nick had apparently decided there had been enough talk about the fall of the Warbler's, and a change of subject was in order. "Blaine," he asked, "have you talked to Kurt?"

And if there was one thing Blaine _really_ didn't feel like discussing, it was Kurt. He shook his head. "I'm…not ready yet. Things are weird enough between us right now anyway. I don't want to make him feel he needs to be there just because this happened. It wasn't that big a deal. And I don't know where I stand with him. We can't get confused by what happened, and then when things die down he will realize he doesn't really want me, and I can't handle that. So I'm avoiding talking to him. It's probably stupid." Blaine sighed.

Trent shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you. He's probably worried sick, but I'm sure he's heard from everyone else that you're okay. Physically, at least. You should do what feels right for you."

Jeff spoke up, quietly. "And you're wrong about one thing, Blaine. It _was_ a big deal. Just because no one got hurt doesn't mean it wasn't something to be upset by. I can't imagine how scary it must have been in that room not knowing what was happening."

Blaine didn't like this conversation. He didn't like thinking about the choir room. The fear would start rising in his chest until his throat closed up if he thought too long about it. He started counting in his head by threes. Half distracted, he asked, "Where's Sebastian?" He just wanted the focus to be on something else.

Trent answered, "He's probably in his room. He wants to see you, but he wasn't sure if you wanted to see him. He didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

Blaine nodded. He figured it was probably something like that. "You can tell him he can come if he wants. I don't mind seeing him."

Trent pulled out his cell phone and tapped into it. A few moments later, a knock came at the door. Trent pulled it open.

"Why is the door locked?" Sebastian asked, entering behind Trent. He met Blaine's eyes and confusion turned to a sort of gentle understanding. "Yeah, got it. Never mind." He locked the door again behind him.

Blaine wondered what on earth Sebastian had read on his face that made him answer his own question with a single glance. He had thought he was keeping any stray emotions pretty well internalized.

Sebastian crossed over to the desk and placed a stack of papers down. "This week's Warbler's lessons," he explained. He turned his full attention to Blaine. "Glad you came, Anderson, Trent's been impossible to deal with since we heard. Now maybe he can stop acting like someone killed and ate his baby kitten."

Blaine found that visual highly disturbing.

Trent just glared at Sebastian. "I was worried! That's what people with a _soul_ do when they hear there's been a _school shooting_!" Trent broke off and turned to Blaine, sheepish. "Sorry."

Blaine winced. And went back to counting. Sebastian didn't look impressed. Blaine decided maybe he should try to ward off the impending collision course they were headed for. He gestured towards the papers Sebastian had set down. "Lessons?" he inquired.

Nick snorted disdainfully. "You're not the only one who keeps getting asked about their _feelings_," he stated. "They hired someone to act as the Warbler's coach. She has a degree in psychology. Which I personally think she printed off the internet. She's very adamant on us _expressing our emotions_ through song. The competitive year is over for us, but the school apparently decided this would be a good way to give us some additional '_help_'." Nick made air quotations around the word 'help'."

"She keeps turning everything into an object lesson or something," Trent volunteered. "So far, she has come up with about six different 'themes' and then made us all come up with a song that meets the theme and sing it and explain how we thought it lended itself to whatever crazy point it is she's trying to make for the day."

"Sounds like Mr. Schue," Blaine murmured.

"Except, we have to be so careful what we choose," Jeff exclaimed. "It's making us all nuts. Too cheery, we're in denial. Too depressing, we might be suicidal. Too angry, better drug test them and make sure they aren't using again. It isn't helping! It's making things more and more stressful!"

"He isn't exaggerating," Sebastian confirmed. "Last week we had to find a song on "friendship." She was looking to build team spirit or something maybe? I have no idea. But I figured I'd do "You've Got a Friend In Me" from freaking Toy Story, right? Not much to find fault with there. So I did. And then she proceeded to psychoanalyze the song, and picked apart the lines 'Some other folks might be a little bit smarter than I am, bigger and stronger too' and determined I was feeling guilty because of my past mistakes and felt everyone else was better than me and I would never be able to measure up and she assigned me more counseling sessions!" Sebastian looked deeply affronted. "Me! Hey, I know I've screwed up more than my share, but these idiots are just as screwed up as me! And my self esteem is just fine, thank you very much!"

"Probably too inflated, actually," Nick muttered under his breath. Blaine, close enough to hear, grinned slightly.

Jeff stared down and worried at the sleeves of his shirt. "She asked us to do a song about regret and redemption. So I chose "Leave Out All the Rest" by Linkin Park. I thought it was ultimately an uplifting song, you know? But she focused on the line of 'I'm strong on the surface, not all the way through' and decided I was trying to hide something." He shook his head. "She must have access to all our medical records. Because afterwards she pulled me aside and asked me if I was cutting again. I haven't done that since just after I got to Dalton! She wouldn't believe me when I said no. She made me go to the school physician and get checked out for…fresh marks." He glared at the room. "I hadn't done it again! I'm better at coping and Nick helps me when I need it! It was never a secret from any of you." He sighed. "But even after they found out I hadn't, she's still making me go twice a week and prove I haven't relapsed. Do you know how embarrassing that is?"

Blaine imagined that would be very embarrassing. And probably counterproductive. All it would do was keep the idea of relapsing at the front of Jeff's thoughts. Blaine knew Jeff had a history of self injury. But by the time Jeff had started Dalton he had been in therapy for a while and had already almost beaten the habit. Blaine could understand how the teachers could be concerned about a relapse with all the stress he was under, but he doubted they way they were handling it would be helpful. It wouldn't surprise him if it ended up being harmful, however.

Sebastian shrugged. He looked tired. "I think she genuinely thinks she's doing the right thing. That's the worst part. She's not trying to be hurtful, she's just…dumb. And we're all on a pretty short leash here. No one wants to hear how we think she's a quack. The counselors, the teacher who is leading the alcohol awareness classes, they are all fine. They're actually helpful. And I can't say we can't benefit from _them_. But this woman…all we need is a coach, not a crazy micromanaging conspiracy theorist jumping to conclusions.

Blaine felt for them. He knew what it was like to have everyone second guessing him and looking at him like he might break at any moment. "That really sucks, guys," he acknowledged. "I wish there was a way to fix it." There was _so much_ at the moment Blaine wished could just be magically fixed.

Sebastian just shrugged again and pulled the stack from the desk and handed Blaine the sheets of paper. "Not much we can do now. We should probably come up with our songs for the next practice. Want to help us pick out songs that hopefully don't have too much she can jump to conclusions from?"

Blaine eyed the stack. "What's the theme?"

Sebastian just shook his head. "She's still trying to find the cracks, even when we aren't currently breaking." He handed Blaine one more paper, one word prominently displayed on top.

Blaine stared at it. "Hopelessness? Really? She wants you to sing about _hopelessness_?"

Nick waved at him from across the room. "Welcome to misery, Blaine. This is what we deal with every couple days."

Well, that was just great. Blaine could see this was going to go really, really well.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Description of PTSD induced panic attack.**

Blaine flipped through the stack of papers Sebastian had brought with him. He shook his head. "There's no way you can use these. How are you supposed to sing about hopelessness without giving her reason to think your all depressed? These songs are _by definition_ depressing!"

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Tell us about it. I just googled 'hopeless' and 'lyrics', and printed out the first few pages."

Blaine started handing papers to the others. "You can't use a single song on here. Seriously, your coach will have you all under suicide watch. They're _terrible_. We have to approach this from a different angle."

Nick eyed the stack of sheets he had been handed like they were personally offending him. It was possible they actually _were_. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Blaine shook his head. "You can't _actually_ sing about hopelessness. She'll decide you're all about to fall over the edge. You need something more upbeat. Something that turns hopelessness into hopefullness." He tilted his head quizzically. "Is that even a word?"

Trent looked contemplative. "Hopelessly Devoted to You?" he suggested.

Blaine winced slightly. That song brought back memories of Kurt. He could picture himself drifting forlornly down the halls of McKinley, ghostlike, isolated in his own world, singing that song to himself as he kept going over every mistake he had made that had lost him Kurt. There was pain attached to that song.

He shook his head at Trent. "It's…ultimately still not a very uplifting song. It's about losing the love of your life and never really being able to…recover." God, he missed Kurt. Why had he been so stupid?

Trent looked at Blaine with sympathy. Blaine had mentioned his breakup with Kurt to Trent not that long after it happened. Blaine didn't know if any of the others knew what had happened. He doubted it. Trent was too loyal a friend to him to go spreading gossip around.

Jeff had pulled an ipod out of his pocket and was slowly thumbing through it. "Guys…" he started slowly, still scrolling, "what if we went the opposite? Anti-suicide song. It would touch on hopelessness, but still show a positive message. She's going to read into anything we do, we might as well make a statement that we're all planning on sticking around and we don't need her constant hovering."

Sebastian nodded. "That's actually probably the best tactic we could choose. Suggestions?"

Jeff was still considering the tiny glowing screen. "Uh…Never Too Late by Three Days Grace? Don't Jump by Tokio Hotel? Hold On by Good Charlotte? Everybody Hurts by R.E.M?"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Not that you've given it much thought, hmm, Jeffrey?"

Jeff shrugged. "I said I wasn't cutting. I didn't say I wasn't depressed. They're cathartic."

Sebastian's voice had a level of concern to it that Blaine didn't recall ever hearing before. "Don't give us a reason to worry, Sterling."

Nick glared at Sebastian. "He can listen to whatever helps him, Smythe. The last thing he needs to do is hide from us because he thinks it might make us uncomfortable!"

Sebastian fired back, "He can speak for himself, Duval. He doesn't need you micromanaging his every move."

Jeff was starting to look worried. "Guys, It's fine. Please don't start anything…"

Tension was growing in the room. Blaine could feel it. And he really didn't like it. He found himself resorting to counting again, trying to ignore the imminent argument between Sebastian and Nick. He couldn't handle stress well after the incident in the choir room. His body was involuntarily abnormally jumpy, and anger scared him more than was probably necessary.

Even with all that, it probably would have been fine if someone hadn't slammed a door down the hall at exactly the worst time. Sebastian and Nick were both too concerned about Jeff to let anything escalate too far. They were both just frustrated with the assignment, and the constant focus the coach put on her own belief that their psychological collapse was imminent. But they would have backed down and things would have been okay, except that the very moment Nick shouted an exasperated "Sebastian!", someone slammed the heavy metal door at the end of the hallway, and Blaine's hyperaware and already poised for conflict mind switched directly into crisis mode.

Blaine was curled up in a corner between the bed and the wall with his hands desperately clasped around his knees before any of the other boys had even fully registered the noise from outside in the hallway. His body had gone absolutely rigid and his eyes were staring straight ahead, focused on something that existed only in his head. Trent was beside him in seconds, dropping to his knees and reaching for him. "Blaine!"

Sebastian darted forward and shoved Trent out of the way. Trent stumbled and turned to glare at Sebastian. "What the hell? He needs help!"

Sebastian shook his head. "Yeah, he does, brainless. But you can't just reach out and grab hold of him! He can't see any of us right now. You'll just scare him more."

Sebastian knelt in front of Blaine and peered into his eyes. There was no recognition there. Sebastian began talking in a quiet but firm voice. "Blaine, I want you to concentrate on my voice. You're having a panic attack. You're probably having a flashback to McKinley, but you aren't there now. You're safe. Blaine, it's the memory that scaring you, you aren't actually there. I want you to listen to me, can you do that?"

Sebastian kept up a steady stream of calm statements assuring Blaine that he was safe. He kept watching for any sign of recognition.

Hazily, Blaine became aware of someone talking. He wished they would be _quiet_. Talking wasn't _safe_. He needed to tell the voice that it was important to be quiet. He couldn't seem to concentrate though. His chest hurt. He couldn't seem to stop gasping. His breath wouldn't cooperate. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around his legs, forcing himself to be still. He couldn't be seen. He couldn't be heard. People could _die_ if he wasn't quiet. His _friends_ could die. Blaine tried to count in his head to distract himself from whatever threat was lurking outside his immediate personal space. He couldn't make the numbers work though. They weren't coming in order in his head.

Sebastian startled when Blaine started whispering. He listened. Were those numbers? Blaine was whispering random numbers, voice nearly silent but highly agitated. Sebastian started talking quietly again to him, hoping if he used something Blaine seemed to be using himself, it would cut through Blaine's panic and into his mind. Sebastian started repeating, "Blaine, I'm going to count. I want you to breathe with me on each number, okay? In and then out." He began slowly reciting numbers in order, breathing at a steady pace. He relaxed slightly when Blaine's random list of recited number starting coming in order. It was actually helping. He kept repeating numbers, breathing slowly. Blaine's breathing started slowing it's pace. Sebastian noted vaguely that every other boy in the room was keeping time with him. They probably weren't even aware they were doing it.

Gradually, Blaine's eyes shifted back into focus. His gaze landed on Sebastian. He looked confused. "Sebastian?"

Sebastian smiled at him. "Welcome back, Killer. You took a little vacation from us when the door slammed." He gestured towards the hallway beyond their own locked door.

Blaine shuddered. "I thought…I heard…"

Trent sank down next to him. "Yeah, Blaine, we know. It's okay. Well, no, I mean, it sucks, but you're okay."

Nick's voice was quiet as he spoke. He kept his distance, sitting on the bed. He hadn't wanted to scare Blaine, and he figured what happened was partially his fault. "I'm sorry Blaine, Sebastian and I were out of line. We shouldn't have gone at each other like that."

Blaine shook his head. His heart was still beating at an abnormally fast pace. "It's not your fault. I panic too easily. I just, some things just trigger memories. And this is actually the first time I've been out in a while. I've been too overwhelmed by a lot. It probably would have happened eventually anyway." He looked down, embarrassed.

"It's understandable that it does," Jeff said. "It was a scary thing that happened. You need to fully process it. That will probably take a while."

Sebastian reached out a hand and offered it to Blaine. "Come on, Anderson, that can't be comfortable. Let's get you back in a chair.

Blaine reached up and allowed Sebastian to pull him to his feet. His swayed, Sebastian gently steadying and guiding him to a chair. "Sorry," Blaine muttered.

Sebastian just rolled his eyes. "It's fine. Your body is still trying to figure out what to do with all that extra adrenaline. It's probably left you shaky." He turned to Trent. "Do you have anything to drink in here?"

Trent nodded, and opened a standing cabinet in the corner. It had a tiny fridge in it, just big enough to fit a few cans. Trent pulled out a sports drink and tossed it to Sebastian, who in turn handed it to Blaine. "Drink," he instructed. "It will make you feel less shaky."

Blaine took the bottle and sipped, watching Sebastian curiously. "Sebastian…" he began, "when I had the panic attack, how did you know what to do to help me?"

Trent was watching with interest. "I'm curious about that too," he admitted. "I would have done all the wrong things."

Sebastian merely smiled wryly and shook his head. "That's a long story. One for another time. Maybe."

It didn't make him any less curious, but Blaine wasn't really up to pressing Sebastian for anything right then. He was happy to just sit in the chair and let his breathing and heart rate settle back to normal. He wasn't going to forget, though. He still wanted that story at some point.

Jeff cleared his throat. "So, can we go back to the song choices now? Without the dramatics, Nick, Sebastian?"

Nick nodded. "Yeah, sorry Jeff. Okay, so, what were our choices again?"

**A/N Part 2: Thank you all so much for your kind reviews and favorites and follows! I'm _thrilled_ that there are people out there enjoying this.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Have you lost your way?  
Livin' in the shadow of the messes that you made  
And so it goes  
Everything inside your circle starts to overflow  
**-Aftermath by Adam Lambert

** _**

Jeff flipped through his song lists on his iPod again. He shook his head slightly. "I don't know, guys. These are all really dark in one way or another. And you know Coach will read any possible little thing into them. Anyone else have any ideas?"

Sebastian shrugged. "We've only got one positive thing working for us this week. She's looking for a group number. Not individual. So we _all_ have to agree on the song, but she won't be able to assume as much about individuals from it. We only have to find one song, not one for all of us."

Blaine reached out and tapped Jeff's arm lightly. "Can I look?" he asked.

Jeff handed the device over to him. "Please. Maybe a fresh pair of eyes will see something new. We've already gone through dozens of songs in her other classes. We're running out of options."

Blaine scrolled though the playlist. He raised an eyebrow at Jeff. "These _are_ pretty dark," he acknowledged, carefully censoring his tone so Jeff wouldn't think he was judging him.

"Yeah, I know," Jeff sighed. "It's not my whole library, that's just the playlist for when I'm feeling down. I can't listen to happy music then. It just makes me feel worse. It helps because they're kind of expressing what I need to say _for_ me. It helps to let it out."

"Maybe I need one of those playlists," Blaine mused quietly.

Jeff looked sympathetic. "Maybe you should make one," he suggested. "It can help get the bottled up feelings out in a healthier manner."

Blaine nodded. He didn't really want to let the feelings out though, he wanted them to stay buried. He didn't mention that to Jeff though. Blaine backed out of Jeff's playlist, figuring it was probably a little too dark to be able to choose a song from. He started scrolling through the whole list of music by artist. He didn't get very far before his fingers stilled. He gazed thoughtfully at the name on the screen, then pulled up a lyrics app and handed the iPod back to Jeff. "What do you think?" he asked.

Jeff viewed the lyrics page, Nick reading over his shoulder. Double smiles gradually blossomed on the faces of both boys. "This is actually really good." Jeff looked pleased. He handed the device over to Trent, who moved to Sebastian, and the two of them checked the lyrics.

"We can make this work," Sebastian confirmed, looking more enthusiastic about the assignment than Blaine had seen him yet. "Adam Lambert's The Aftermath it is, then." He grinned at Blaine. "We should keep you. Are you sure we can't keep you?"

Blaine shrugged. "I need to finish out my last year at McKinley. They need me. I can't just abandon them in the middle of this." He murmured under his breath, "not that I haven't thought about it. A lot."

Sebastian figured Blaine probably hadn't actually wanted anyone to overhear the last part, but he had. He elected to say nothing. The Warbler's could want Blaine back as much as anything, but right now, Blaine felt like he needed to stay at McKinley. And Sebastian wasn't going to take away any small amount of control Blaine felt he was maintaining over his own life. He did wish Blaine would be willing to transfer back. He was worried what McKinley would do to Blaine if he kept up his desperate plans to save the students and heal the school as a part of his class president duties, or whatever crazy idea Sebastian suspected Blaine currently had in his head. He figured Blaine was trying really hard to ignore the aftermath of his own trauma. He only hoped they could be there to pick up the pieces before Blaine fell too far. Because there was no doubt in his mind Blaine _would_ break, if he didn't actually start dealing with what happened.

Blaine glanced at his watch and stood up. "I should probably head back home, guys," he said regretfully. "I told my parents I wouldn't be gone long. They worry."

Trent smiled at Blaine. "I'm really glad you did come though. And you can come back whenever you want, okay?" He walked over to Blaine and enveloped him in another hug. Blaine relaxed into is arms and just allowed himself to cling for a minute. Trent said against the top of his head, "Call me if you want to talk, okay? I don't care when. You can always call."

Blaine nodded into Trent's chest, then pulled away. "Thanks," he said, smiling wistfully.

Nick and Jeff both stood up and hugged him. Jeff wrapped himself around Blaine and clung. Blaine could feel his body shaking slightly. No matter what Jeff said about how he wasn't going to relapse, Blaine was still going to worry about him. He offered softly, "Jeff, this phone thing works both ways. You can always call me too, okay?" Jeff nodded against his skin, then backed off. He smiled shyly at Blaine. "I know," he whispered. "Thank you, Blaine."

Sebastian merely rolled his eyes at the room in general. "If you're all done baking cupcakes and playing paper dolls, I can walk Blaine out."

Trent returned a version of the eye roll to Sebastian that had even more attitude than Sebastian's had. Blaine was impressed despite himself. He did want to talk to Sebastian though. So he nodded at Sebastian as he said his final goodbyes to the others. Nick extracted a promise from him to come back the next Saturday. Trent stipulated for sooner if necessary. Blaine reassured both of them that he would call them tomorrow. Then he headed out the door with Sebastian.

** _**

You feel the weight,  
Of lies and contradictions that you live with every day,  
It's not too late,  
Think of what could be if you rewrite the role you play.  
-Aftermath by Adam Lambert


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Contains references to physical and sexual threats on a minor child. Nothing graphic, or actually occurring, however.**

The busy Dalton halls did nothing to calm Blaine's already frayed nerves. Exiting the safety of Trent's room back into the fast moving crowd of students sent his pulse speeding back up, body preparing for danger. He shifted slightly closer to Sebastian and started counting in his head as he followed the other boy back down the hall.

Sebastian glanced sideways at Blaine and sighed slightly. Blaine's lips were moving in a nearly silent, steady murmur. Sebastian suspected he was counting again. He turned towards him and asked, "Blaine?"

Blaine didn't respond. He didn't seem to be paying attention to his surroundings. _He's retreated into his head again_. Sebastian stopped in the middle of the room, Blaine almost bumping into him before coming to a standstill himself and looking blankly at him. Sebastian tried again. "Blaine!"

Blaine snapped to and gave him a cross glare. "_What_?"

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "What exactly are you doing, Anderson?"

Blaine looked confused. "What am I doing with what?"

"The chanting," Sebastian countered. "What are you constantly mumbling? Are you trying to exorcise a demon, or what?"

Blaine was looking at him like he had just sprouted a tail. "_What_? Have you been watching too much Supernatural? I'm not chanting. And it's not even Latin."

Sebastian grinned at him. "Dean boy, aren't you? But you were chanting. Or reciting. Or something. Numbers? They were numbers in Trent's room."

Blaine let the Supernatural reference go. He shrugged. "It…gives me something to focus on. It just…get's too much. Sometimes."

Sebastian studied him for a few seconds. He was kind of making Blaine uncomfortable. Sebastian apparently decided whatever he was seeing demanded more attention, because he asked, "Blaine, can you hang around for a couple more minutes? I want to talk to you about something."

Blaine considered. "It can't take too long. And not here. Too open."

Sebastian nodded, then offered, "We could go into the choir room? No one's using it now. Or would it be too…weird?"

"It's nothing like the one at McKinley," Blaine said, shrugging. "It should be okay."

Sebastian nodded, leading Blaine to the empty room. He shut the door behind them. "No locks on it," he explained, "but no one has a reason to come near. We'll keep an eye on it."

Blaine nodded, settling himself in a corner out of line of sight of the door. Sebastian casually sat on a nearby chair, keeping his own body between Blaine and the unlocked door.

They sat in silence for a minute until Blaine finally ventured, "Sebastian, _you_ dragged _me_ here. Do you actually have something to say, or are we just going to sit here and stare at the walls?"

Sebastian drew in a breath. "You asked me before how I knew what to do when you had that panic attack. Do you still want to know?"

Blaine nodded.

"Then I'm willing to tell you," Sebastian said. "I haven't really told anyone before. It just seemed…like maybe I was making a big deal out of nothing. But out of anyone, I think you might be able to understand where I'm coming from. Because even though it didn't turn out to be anything, it was kind of…terrifying at the time."

"Yeah," Blaine said, softly. "They all keep saying 'But no one got hurt. Why are you still so scared?'…But while we were in that room, we had no way of knowing if people were..getting hurt."

Sebastian cast a sympathetic look in his direction. "Yeah, exactly."

"So…what happened to you?" Blaine asked.

Sebastian shook his head slightly. "_Nothing_. Nothing _happened to me_. But it's what could have that had me all screwed up. You know who my dad is?"

Blaine blinked at that apparent non sequitur. "I know he's an attorney…"

"Yeah, he's a state's attorney," Sebastian confirmed. "He's pretty influential and the state assigns him to some of the bigger trials as a prosecutor. He…got involved in a case a few years ago against a company funded by some high profile drug dealers. They were using a shell corporation to launder drug money and were possibly involved in several murders. Once my dad started preparing for the case, he started getting harassing phone calls and threatening letters. We had to change our phone number a couple of times to get them to stop calling, trying to intimidate us. My dad used to just brush most of it off. He was used to people he put in jail being pissed at him. But then…something changed."

Blaine was getting a bad feeling about where this was headed.

Sebastian continued, "Someone threw a brick through our window. My dad didn't know if it was related, or just some random troublemakers. But then both he and my stepmom started acting really weird. They were always hovering around. They never wanted to go out, and they didn't want me to leave the house either. They were acting really nervous. But they wouldn't tell me why. Then one day, out of the blue, my dad said he had been talking to my mom, and they both thought it would be a good idea for me to go out and stay with her for a while. I freaked out at him. I had two months left in the school year, and I wasn't moving to freaking Paris that close the the end. I was furious because I _knew_ they were hiding something from me, but they wouldn't tell me _what_. My dad agreed to let me finish out the school term, but on the condition that I allow him to hire a bodyguard to follow me around, and after school got out, I would spend the summer in Paris with my mom."

Blaine was staring at him with wide eyes. "You had a _bodyguard_?" he asked. "It's like you were the President's son or something. That's kind of weird."

"Yeah, I know," Sebastian said. "It was really weird. And awkward. And made any kind of fun nearly impossible. No one wants the kid with the hulking goliath trailing behind him to come along for the party. I was so mad at them. I was sure they were overreacting. So one day when my parents were both out at a fundraiser, and my goliath was doing rounds outside our house checking for anything suspicious, I noticed my dad's office was unlocked. He never left it unlocked. But he must have forgotten that day. And I figured this whole bodyguard thing had to come from something work related for him, so I snuck into the office and started going through the notes on his desk." Sebastian trailed off. He looked…troubled. Blaine had the feeling his explanation was bringing up some unpleasant memories.

"I wish I hadn't seen the letters," Sebastian admitted, "because what was in them still gives me nightmares sometimes. There were…threats that had come to my dad through the mail. Threatening my stepmom, and me. They…were full of some of the worst stuff I've ever read in my life."

"Sebastian…" Blaine interrupted Sebastian's quiet retreat into his own memories. "What was in the letters?"

Sebastian managed a shaky sigh and shook his head. "Plans," he said darkly. "Plans of what they would do to me if the trial ended with a guilty verdict. It was…graphic, and terrifying." He trailed off again. "Blaine…have you ever had to read some probable murderer's plans on how if your dad wins his case, they'll kidnap you and take you away from your family and…torture…and…rape you while they film it for your family, and then they'll kill you?"

His voice was getting shakier with each sentence. Blaine watched as he rubbed at his eyes. He wouldn't be surprised at all if there were tears forming that Sebastian was trying to hide from Blaine.

Blaine kept his voice low and soothing. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Sebastian."

Sebastian gave a watery laugh. "That's the thing. I didn't _go through_ anything. My goliath kept me safe until they shipped me off to my mom's. That's why I was in Paris. My dad did his job, the bad guys got sent away, and then when summer was over, my dad shipped me off to Dalton, just as a precaution. The case was over, but just in case someone was planning retaliation, he sent me to board here. And keep a low profile." Sebastian shrugged. He looked defeated. "So I got stuck here, and even though nothing happened, there are still nights that I wake up panicked by a dream where they finally get to me…and do all the things in the letters. So when I say that I understand how the fear of what could have been can be just as terrifying as the fear from what actually was, I actually do understand."

Blaine didn't know what to say. It was like the Sebastian he thought he knew and the boy sitting beside him were suddenly two completely different people. And Blaine didn't know how to reconcile either one of them in his mind. He suddenly found himself having a lot more sympathy for the boy than he had before. "I think you and I both know that even though they may not have physically touched you, they did_ hurt_ you. The simple possibility of what could have been _hurt you_."

Sebastian smiled wryly at him. "That's kind of the point I was trying to make for _you_, idiot."

Blaine smiled sadly back. He appreciated the point Sebastian was trying to make. He appreciated his honesty even more. Sebastian had gifted him with a story he hadn't even divulged to anyone before. It made Blaine sad that he had gone through all of that on his own though. Sebastian was just as broken as the rest of them. Fortunately, Blaine had already determined that they were going to work at rebuilding themselves. All of them. They wanted to help him, he was determined to help them. They could fix each other. Because the only other option was to allow themselves to break. And Blaine didn't want that.****

A/N: And now we have Sebastian's story. And I do realize that this didn't explain how he knew how to handle the panic attacks. That is coming next, my lovelies. Thank You all so much for your continued support and messages. They make me so happy!


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your support and reviews! Herein lies the rest of Sebastian's story. Warnings for: discussions of past panic attacks and unwanted sexual advancements.**

**PART EIGHT**

Sebastian was drumming his fingers nervously on the arm of the chair he was seated on. Blaine settled on the floor against the wall and watched him thoughtfully.

"So you started having panic attacks after you saw the letters?" he guessed.

Sebastian's finger's stilled, then started up a faster rhythm. "I…well, yeah, kind of. There was an incident that set them off and they just kept getting worse for a while. I found out later my bodyguard had actually been trained to deal with physical and psychological trauma. The guy was Ex- Special Forces. My dad had apparently called in a whole bunch of favors trying to find the best person for the job of keeping me safe." He shrugged.

Blaine could see a deflection from a mile away at this point. He had become a master of them himself. "An _incident?_" he prodded. It didn't seem like something Sebastian was particularly willing to discuss in detail, but Blaine couldn't help wonder what Sebastian's trigger had been.

Sebastian rolled his eyes in Blaine's direction. "I froze. Like a moron. I had gone into the bathroom at the mall and the bodyguard had stayed stationed outside the door. There was a guy in there who decided he liked me. All the sudden he was in my face, and just spouting off normal crap you would expect to hear from the less reputable losers in Scandals. How pretty my eyes were, how good my lips would look wrapped around his…" Sebastian made a face, trailing off.

Blaine winced in sympathy. It wasn't anything he probably hadn't heard before, but the guy had sure picked a bad time to start saying it.

Sebastian shook his head. "It was just too soon after the letters. He was whispering filthy things in my ear about how good I would look bent over his hood, and all I could picture was the letters I had read a couple days ago. It all got…_confused_ in my head?" Sebastian sounded unsure of himself. "I had already ended up backed against the wall, and he was just kind of hovering in my face. But then he had to go and put his hands on me. He had one hand pressing me against the wall and he stuck the other one over my mouth. I don't even know what he was thinking or what he would have done. I just completely froze and…shut down."

Blaine's heart rate was increasing. He thought back to how shaken Kurt had been by a single _kiss_ taken against his will. He could understand how Sebastian, with all those horrible visuals already in his head would react by mentally checking out of the situation. "Sebastian…" he asked, quietly, "what happened after that?"

Sebastian's expression was somewhat embarrassed. He shrugged. "More _nothing_ happened," he explained. "I don't even know how my bodyguard knew their was a problem, but the next thing I was aware of was his face in front of me speaking calmly and clearly over and over again, telling me I was safe and no one would hurt me. There were mall security guards everywhere and the guy wasn't anywhere in sight. That was the first panic attack. There were others after that, although the first one was the worst. And every time, I'd come back to myself to find my bodyguard kneeling in front of me talking me back down to reality again."

"Like you did for me," Blaine acknowledged softly.

Sebastian nodded. "I just…tried doing what he always did. I'm just glad it worked." He eyed Blaine curled up on the floor with concerned eyes. "It's…probably not going to get better on it's own Blaine. Not completely. Time helps. But my mom ended up sending me to therapy in France. That helped _more_. Don't…try to handle it all on your own. It's okay to ask for help, okay?"

Blaine shrugged. He was used to handling things on his own. He could handle this. Besides it really wasn't the same thing. Sebastian had been dealing with a real threat. He was fortunate no one tried to hurt him, because there were _actually_ people who _wanted to_. So Sebastian's fear had been warranted. And even if Sebastian didn't see it that way, he had been at the very _least_ sexually harassed while he was extremely vulnerable. Blaine on the other hand, was just jumping at shadows, expecting monsters where none had ever existed. He didn't tell Sebastian any of that though. Sebastian wouldn't see reason. He could be so stubborn.

"I appreciate you're helping me," he said. "It's true that sometimes it's like something pushes a button somewhere and I'm back there. But I'll be fine. It's not really that often. There was just a lot going on today. I should be getting home anyway. My parents will be expecting me."

Sebastian sighed and nodded slowly. He couldn't really help Blaine until Blaine realized he _needed_ help. So Sebastian would just try to be there and keep offering him a listening ear. "Just…if it get's too much and you feel like there isn't anyone to talk to…" he cleared his throat, humming softly in discomfort. Sebastian wasn't used putting an effort into helping people. But he owed it to Blaine. And not just because of his past mistakes. He truly wanted Blaine to be okay. He cared about him Sebastian started again, "Call me. If you need it. I don't care when. Just know you can call, okay?"

Blaine nodded obediently. He wouldn't, he didn't need to, but it would appease Sebastian. Sebastian had had a difficult time. Blaine should help him.

Sebastian shook his head slightly, frustrated. He didn't think Blaine was really hearing him, but he would just have to hope he would call if he needed to. Sebastian led him back out of the choir room and down the back staircase which was quieter, finally leaving him at his car. Blaine reached forward and hugged him, uncomfortable with the sensation, but wanting to give some strength to the other boy. Sebastian hugged him back, holding on a little longer than strictly necessary and whispering, "You'll get there. I promise."

Blaine broke away and smiled at him. He climbed in his car and headed down the drive.

Sebastian sighed and headed back inside. He didn't think Blaine was nearly as okay as he tried to pretend. He half expected a phone call from Blaine before the day ended tomorrow. He wasn't sure which would be worse. Getting a phone call from an overwhelmed Blaine, or not getting one and having to spend the day worrying about his well being. Sebastian held by his statement to Blaine much earlier than year. Being nice _sucked_.


	9. Chapter 9

Sunday morning at Blaine's house was awkward. His parents hovered nervously as he sat eating his cereal, his father attempting to read the newspaper and subtly sneak glances at Blaine at the same time. His mother flitted back and forth between the kitchen and dining room, never settling.

Blaine finally reached the breaking point the third time his mother darted in and refilled his orange juice glass the second he finished it. "Would you two relax? You're driving me crazy!"

His father raised his eyebrows at him over the financial section. "is there a problem, Blaine?" He inquired mildly.

Blaine glared at his orange juice. "I know you're trying to be...supportive, but I can't take the hovering like you think I'm about to collapse in a hysterical puddle on the floor. I'm _fine_!"

His father looked thoughtful. His mother looked argumentative. "I still think it wouldn't be a bad idea to talk to someone. Those counselor's they brought in for that public school are probably overworked and underqualified. I don't think they're handling things as well as they could be."

His father stood and went to his wife, slipping an arm around her waist. "Blaine is capable of dealing with this, love. He doesn't need to be coddled. He's dealt with worse successfully in the past without getting doctors involved." He smiled uncomfortably at Blaine. "He's stronger than you think."

Well, _no_, he probably wasn't anywhere near as strong as his father wanted to believe. But he would take his father's belief gladly if it meant no one was going to make him _talk about it again_. Blaine nodded his thanks at his father. "I'm fine, mom," he reassured. "And you're still going out tonight, right?"

His mother looked unhappy. "If I had a choice, I would stay here. But this charity event has been planned for months." She glanced toward her husband. "Maybe you should go and I could stay?"

Blaine sighed, exasperated. "Mother..." he began, shooting his father a pleading look.

Mr. Anderson shook his head firmly. "We're both expected," he reminded gently, "and this is too important to abandon. Blaine will be fine."

"He hasn't even been alone at home since the incident!" His mother protested. "What if he can't handle it?"

"I'm right _here_, you know," Blaine murmured, annoyed that so many conversations lately about what was best for him never seemed to actually involve consulting _him_ on the matter.

"Then he can call us," his father responded reasonably. "Or he can call one of his friends. He knows he can invite anyone to come be with him if he wants them to. Besides, we'll be back by one or two in the morning. We aren't going to be gone the whole night."

His mother still didn't look happy, but she acquiesced. "But promise Blaine, if it's too much, call us. Or get one of your friends to come over." She looked suddenly hopeful. "Why don't you call someone now? they could be here before we leave!"

Blaine barely stifled an exasperated groan. He didn't want anyone over. He wanted a few hours of having to worry about anyone else, or worry about them worrying about him. It was his _house_. He was perfectly safe there. He didn't need a babysitter.

"I just want some time to myself," he said. "It will be fine. Really. But I'll call if I need to, okay?"

His father put an end to the argument. "Blaine will be fine, love. Let him have his space. He has all day before we leave. By six when we need to head out he'll probably just want to relax or sleep anyway. We're done hovering. Let him prove to us he can handle this."

His mother just sighed and placed a gentle kiss on the top of his head. "You know I just want you safe, right love?" She asked softly.

He nodded. "I know you do. But you can't keep me wrapped in a bubble forever."

She smiled wistfully. "I don't see why not. But I'll try to lay off, okay?"

He smiled back. "That's all I ask."

Blaine retreated to his room. It was the place he felt safest, secure in his own space with the door firmly locked. He had been avoiding open spaces like the living room for a while. He knew it was unnecessary, but he wasn't fond of the open layout and lack of doors. Locks meant safety.

He wouldn't admit it to his parents, but he was a little uneasy about the idea of them leaving that night. It would be the first time he was completely alone in the house, and he wasn't looking forward to how quiet things would be.

He didn't like silence. He felt better with the constant murmur of voices in the background. He usually kept music or the television going in the background in his house all the time now. For some reason, if he was in his room and it was quiet, he started getting nervous and triggered quicker.

He could do this though. He didn't need someone constantly watching over him. He could handle his emotions just fine, especially when he wasn't out in public with outside influences interfering with his coping ability. His father expected him to handle this on his own. His reluctance to talk about the possibility of a therapist proved that. Blaine would meet his expectations. He would meet everyone's. He was the one they all turned to. He could be that. he _had_ to be that.

Sebastian may have said asking for help was okay, but Blaine was fine. He didn't need it. And if he turned his music up a little louder and triple checked his door in his room as he waited for six o'clock to come, that was just the pragmatic thing to do.

And if his heart raced just a little faster and his pulse sped up just a little at the idea of being alone and relatively unprotected, that was just a minor side effect of an unfortunate event. He could force himself to ignore it. He was an Anderson. And Anderson's didn't acknowledge weaknesses.

It would be fine. really, it would.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Warnings For: Onset of a panic attack; Description of intent to self injure. Take care with this one, if you think it might trigger you, I would rather you kept yourself safe. If you have any specific questions, send me a message; I'll reply…**

Blaine spent the afternoon in relative isolation in his room. His mother would flit by occasionally with snacks or to ask a question or bring fresh laundry up. Blaine suspected she was just looking for excuses to keep checking up on him. It didn't really bother him all that much. He knew she was still shaken herself by the incident at McKinley. She had a tendency to stare at him when she thought he wasn't looking like he might disappear if she blinked too much. So he tolerated the hovering and unlocked his door each time he heard her footsteps heading up the stairs.

His father didn't come up once. He was probably busy in his office. That first night after the gun had gone off, his father had hugged him awkwardly and stiffly said that if he needed to talk to him he would be there. But Blaine knew he would prefer Blaine just deal with this on his own. His father didn't deal well with emotions. He had tried, and Blaine was grateful. But he wasn't going to go bothering his father with the thoughts that flit around his head. He could control them. He _would_ control them. He would make his father proud.

Remembering his promise to call Trent and Nick, Blaine made a couple quick phone calls. He didn't mention his parents plans for the night. Trent would have probably just worried. Trent had enough to deal with without Blaine adding to the mix. He was thankful that they cared enough to keep track of him, but he didn't really want a long conversation. He was feeling weary today. There was a tension in his mind he couldn't quite get rid of. Probably because he couldn't even quite figure out where it was_ coming_ from.

Blaine had nearly fallen asleep curled up in the chair in his room half watching television when his father's voice jolted him back to awareness. He had called up the staircase announcing that he and his wife were about ready to head out for the night. Blaine blinked blearily and lifted himself out of the chair, opening his door and glancing at the big grandfather clock opposite his door out in the hallway. It was quarter to six. He must have dozed off for a while.

His mother called up anxiously, asking if he needed anything before they left. Blaine shook his head, calling down the stairs to them, reassuring them he was fine and didn't need them to stay. His mother appeared at the base of the stairs, staring up at him. "You're sure, love?" she asked. Blaine nodded. "Go! I'll be fine. I was almost asleep anyway. I'll probably just nap or something."

His mother smiled timidly up at him. "Well, you could definitely use some sleep. I know you haven't been sleeping that well. Use the sleeping pills in your bathroom if you need to okay?"

Blaine nodded. "I'll be fine." He didn't mention he _couldn't_ use the pills he had gotten a couple days after the incident. His mother had taken him to his doctor after two nights of repeated nightmares that left him waking up screaming. The doctor had only given him a couple weeks supply of them. And those first few days…Blaine hadn't been having an easy time of it at all. The pills made him tired, but also turned him into a bit of a zombie, easing the constant panic that had been in his chest. The first few days he had…taken more than had been strictly prescribed. At this point, he was out of them, but he couldn't tell his mother that. If he had followed the doctor's direction, he would still have some left.

His father appeared at his mother's side, nodding up to him. He murmured something low to his wife, and the two of them left, waving up to Blaine.

Blaine breathed a sigh of relief. He had half expected his mother to refuse to leave. He was glad she had gone. He would have felt terrible if she had to stay to babysit him when she had obligations to attend to. He wasn't that weak. He didn't need constant company. He turned around and headed back into his room, locking the door behind him. He paused just inside the doorway. His parents would have locked the front door, wouldn't they? They must have. They always did…he didn't need to go check.

_Yes, he did_. He wouldn't be able to think of anything else if he didn't. Blaine opened his door again, cautiously listening for noises. He made his way down to the front door, sighing in relief at the safely latched front door. He went through each of the rooms, carefully checking that the windows were all shut and locked. Satisfied, he made his way back to his room, locking his own door once he was inside. He glanced back at the television, and winced. The movie he was watching must have ended at six. The news was now showing a picture of McKinley, the reporter talking fast and serious in front of it. Blaine grabbed the remote and switched the television off. He hated the news. They had a tendency to keep bringing up stories related to schools and school violence, repeatedly citing McKinley as an example, even though that story should have been done and over with before it began. Didn't these people realize that nothing _happened_?

Blaine had lost interest in television after that visual. But he didn't want to sit in the silence. His chest kind of hurt. There was a tightness there making it hard to breath. _Relax..nothing is happening. Don't think about it._ Blaine flipped on his speakers and set his ipod to shuffle. He was diving for the pause button before the first few notes of Katy Perry even finished playing. _Great._ It just had to be _that_ song. He turned the ipod off, staring off into space, his mind elsewhere. Teenage Dream had such conflicting emotions attached to it. It was so far at the top of his play count he probably shouldn't be that surprised it had started playing. But he couldn't deal with it right now. He couldn't deal with the ache that the thought of Kurt brought to his chest.

He still hadn't spoken to him. He should have. He was being stupid. At this point, Kurt was probably pretty angry with him for not calling after it happened. He understood why Kurt didn't call him. Blaine had broken things. Kurt shouldn't be expected to fix them. It still hurt not to be able to talk to him though. But he couldn't. And certainly not when he was feeling vulnerable and shaky like this. It wouldn't be fair to Kurt. Blaine wasn't _his_ to fix anymore. Blaine had made sure of that.

Blaine was starting to think maybe being alone wasn't the greatest idea. Without anyone there to distract him, Blaine's thoughts had the space to run free and overwhelm him. He glanced around the room, looking for something else to distract himself with. He picked a book up off the shelf and leafed through it. He couldn't concentrate though. The silence was deafening. But he wasn't sure if noise would help either at this point.

He shouldn't have told his parents to go. But he couldn't expect them to stay. He was being weak. He had to stop it. There wasn't _anything_ to be anxious over. He was jumping at memories and shadows again. He had to get control. He glanced around the room again, eyeing his phone on the desk. He could call someone, maybe? He didn't need anyone to come over. Maybe just hearing their voices would help. Knowing he wasn't actually alone there. He picked up the phone and dialed Sam.

"G'day, mate," came the cheerful voice on the other end of the line. Blaine breathed a sigh of relief. "Sam-" he began, but was instantly cut off.

"Sam's not here right now, mate, this is Evan. What can I do for you?"

Blaine exhaled, disappointed. It seemed Sam was having a bad day too, if he had retreated back into his 'twin' alter ego. He couldn't bother Sam if Sam was in such a state right now he couldn't even be _himself._ Defeated, Blaine just said softly, "Sorry, Evan, It's Blaine. Let Sam know I called okay? I…hope he comes back soon."

Sam's voice on the other end still sounded cheerful, even if there was a slightly forced quality to it. "Will do, mate! I'll tell him you were asking for him!" Sam hung up, and Blaine slowly lowered his own phone. He placed his thumbs on either side of his temple, rubbing at the beginnings of a tension headache. Sam really worried him. As much as Blaine was struggling, he never actually felt the need to become a _different person_. He should be doing a better job helping him.

Blaine sat, considering. He went through the list of New Directions members in his head, growing more frustrated each moment as he realized he really had no one else to call. He and Artie weren't really close enough to talk about this, Brittany made his head spin at the best of times, and Tina was still working through that monumentally awkward crush on him. He wasn't going to call and confuse her more just because he didn't like being home alone. He wasn't going to call the younger kids, they didn't need the added stress. They were supposed to be able to turn to _him_, not him burden them.

There were too many noises in the background in his house. Too much silence, and too many tiny sounds in the background making him jump. He got up and crossed to his bathroom, turning on the faucet and splashing water on his face. He ran a hand through his carefully gelled hair, staring at himself in the mirror. He opened the medicine cabinet, peering in at the empty orange bottle taunting him. He really wished he hadn't used up all those pills. He needed to turn his brain off. Thoughts were starting to jumble on top of each other, regrets and broken promises and fear and longing. He needed to make them stop. How could he make them _stop_?

Frustrated, he swept a hand across the cabinet shelf, sending the pill bottle and other items flying. All it did was leave him with a mess to clean up. Sighing, he started picking things up off the counter. His hand froze as he stared at the item he had lifted up. The shaving razor glinted off the light in the ceiling. He had a sudden flashback to a conversation the Warbler's had shortly after Jeff got to Dalton, one of the first times he had been brave enough to show up in short sleeves to a after school gathering. Most of them hadn't been able to get what Jeff could have gotten out of hurting himself. How that could _possibly_ make him feel better.

Jeff had explained that sometimes things just got to be too much for him. School, family, his own emotions. He was dealing with episodes of depression that left him feeling hopeless or numb. There were times when it was only that blade that could put things back into place for him. Reset his emotions, almost. He had mentioned the feeling of calm that came over him as the endorphins in his body released and his breathing slowed and all the sudden the pain had found a place to _go_.

Blaine still wasn't entirely sure he got it. But…he was spiraling fast. He could feel it. And he couldn't call his parents, and he couldn't call anyone from the New Directions…and of all the things that had been going wrong lately, and all the bad decisions he had made, was one or two small cuts really that big a deal? Maybe he even deserved it, for his failures. He eyed the blade critically. He had been using it for a while, and it was kind of dull. And pulling the razor apart was probably more work than he could invest right now. There was a craft utility knife though…that his mother kept in the kitchen drawer. He had seen it. And he was pretty sure there were spare blades to it. He ran his fingers lightly over the razor. It seemed such a small thing. But he really needed to _calm down_. It would be a one time thing. He just needed to get through the night. If it would actually help, he would try.

Shakily, he made his way out of the bathroom. He wasn't sure if he could do it. But he wasn't sure what else he would do if he _couldn't_.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Intent to Self-Harm that is not actually followed through on, however, imagery could be triggering.**

Blaine had spent the last ten minutes sitting on the edge of the tub locked in his bathroom, staring curiously at the small piece of metal in his hand. He had made his way down to the kitchen and pulled out a single replacement blade for his mother's craft knife, before retreating back to his bathroom and carefully locking the door.

He could feel his heartbeat thumping painfully in his chest. At this point he wasn't sure if he was trying to talk himself _into_ it, or _out of_ it. He knew it was a bad idea. His mind kept yelling at him, reminding him that if anyone found out he would be in such huge trouble. He kept trying to remind himself that no one would pay that much attention to him and he was good at hiding things. He didn't even know if it would help that much. But if it _did_, it meant he could be strong for everyone. He could keep himself calm and be the rock they all needed him to be. He just needed an outlet for his own emotions.

He tried to ignore the little voice that kept repeating how upset everyone would be if they found out. He would just have to make sure they didn't. He eyed the blade again, cautiously bringing it to his skin. He timidly drew a line across his arm just above the wrist, lightly enough so it didn't actually break the skin. He pressed down a little harder. Still, nothing happened. He paused. Somehow, he hadn't expected it to be so _hard_. With the scars Jeff had, he had expected the tiniest bit of pressure would bring relief. But it wasn't working. He felt a slight twinge of regret at the thought of Jeff. If he knew, he would be so _disappointed_…Jeff had tried so hard for so long to break the habit and had done so well at Dalton for so long with very few relapses after those first couple weeks. He would be _horrified_ if he knew what Blaine was currently doing.

Blaine had a fleeting thought of calling Jeff. But that wouldn't be fair to Jeff. Jeff was under enough stress. The faculty thought he might actually relapse _himself_. Blaine wouldn't be able to forgive himself if his actions resulted in Jeff getting hurt. Jeff didn't need to know. Blaine studied the blade again. It was brand new. And sharp. Why was he having such issues with it? Was he doing it wrong? His fingers shook slightly, and the blade slipped from them and clanged softly on the floor. Blaine panicked slightly, searching the floor when he didn't see it immediately. What if he couldn't locate it and someone else stepped on it? What if they got hurt because of him? What if they did see it and wondered what it was doing in there? What if he got caught?

His parents would freak out. Would they inform the teachers at McKinley, figuring he couldn't be trusted to take care of himself? That would be _horrible_. He couldn't take any more hovering. Or disappointed looks. Jeff would be so upset. Sebastian would _kill_ him.

His racing thoughts skidded to an abrupt halt. _Sebastian_… Sebastian had helped him with the last panic attack. Sebastian had ordered him to call if he needed to. Sebastian had promised to pick up the phone. Blaine noticed the knife blade had dropped on the inside of the tub and picked it up, considering. He didn't really _want_ to do this. He just…was so overwhelmed he hadn't seen another option. But maybe… It wasn't like calling the New Directions. Or Jeff. He wasn't going to trigger Sebastian. Sebastian didn't…need anything from him, right then. Maybe he could just…talk to him, for a little while. Maybe it would help him calm down so he could make it until his parents came back.

It…probably wouldn't hurt, at least. And if it didn't help, well then, there was still that little metal blade. Blaine pulled himself up wearily and went back into his bedroom, still clutching the blade in one hand. He picked up his phone and thumbed through the contact list, pausing on Sebastian's name. Closing his eyes, he pressed the button, forcing himself to just make the call. He waited anxiously as the phone rang, once…twice…three times…

On the forth ring, an out of breath voice came over the line. "Blaine?"

"Sebastian? Sorry, sorry. Did I interrupt something? I can let you go-" Blaine started, already feeling guilty for thinking he should burden Sebastian with his reoccurring meltdowns. Sebastian didn't need him messing up his night just because he couldn't manage to be alone for two hours-

"Blaine? _Blaine_!" Sebastian's insistent voice interrupted his internal chastisement of himself. "Stop apologizing. I told you to call me. At any time. This qualifies as any time. I know what you're thinking. _Stop_ it."

Sebastian's firm voice grounded Blaine back to himself. He let out a shaky breath. "Okay…it's okay. I just…" Blaine trailed off, slowly flipping the blade in his hand. What was he supposed to say? He couldn't tell Sebastian how fragile his was feeling right now. Sebastian was at Dalton. He couldn't just drop everything to come babysit him.

"Blaine, It's fine. I'm actually _glad_ you called. Are you home right now?" Sebastian's voice was slow, cautious. Blaine had the feeling he was trying to sort out whether Blaine was safe right then or not. He recalled a few conversations early on in Dalton where Nick used that same tone with Jeff. He cringed at the thought of Jeff, sliding the blade onto the desk next to his bed.

"I'm home," Blaine confirmed.

"Is there someone with you?" Sebastian asked.

Blaine shook his head, then remembered Sebastian couldn't actually see him. "My parents are at a charity event. They should be home around two," he explained. He peeked out his door at the clock, noting the time. 8:04.

He heard Sebastian exhale on the other end of the line. "Blaine…You're talking kind of…fast. Are you nervous right now?"

Blaine shrugged. "It's…the first time I've been home alone. I didn't expect it to be this…quiet."

There were a few seconds of muffled conversation on the other end of the line, then Sebastian spoke into the phone again. "Jeff and I are at the Lima Bean," he said, too casually. "We have to drive by your house to get back to Dalton anyway. Want company?"

Blaine blinked. They were at the _Lima Bean_? At 8:00 at night? That was weird. He shrugged. "I'm okay. Really. I don't want to mess up your night." _Yes, God, Please. Come. I don't think I can do this…_

Sebastian snorted over the phone. "Jeff's high on caffeine and sugar. We're probably about ten minutes from getting kicked out anyway. And Nick has gone home for the night to babysit his sister or something, so if I go back to Dalton now Jeff will just sit in my room and pout until morning. Please? You'd be doing us a favor." There was a indignant sound in the background and more muffled voices.

Well, they were probably lying through their teeth, but Blaine appreciated the attempt to keep him from feeling like a total loser. "Well, it would be terrible to subject you to that," he allowed. "You guys can come if you want."

"Good," Sebastian said, satisfied. "We'll be there in twenty minutes. I'm going to put you on speakerphone in the car. Then Jeff can't play his new itunes playlist while we're driving. I'm pretty sure he's named it "Songs That Are Most Likely To Drive Sebastian Insane."

More lies, but Blaine was still grateful for Sebastian's attempt to not be obvious about refusing to hang up on him. "Thanks, Seb," he murmured softly.

The other end of the line was quiet for a minute, then, "We'll be there soon, okay?"

Blaine nodded, sitting holding the phone to his ear, while his eyes kept drifting to the object discarded for the moment on the desk.

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your continued favorites and follows and reviews! I get so excited every time I see them. You guys are awesome... (and I totally want to have deep meaningful conversations about the Warbler's with all of you. I'll admit I'm obsessed. :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Warnings For: Discussion of Self Harm; Description of Physical Effects of Past Self Harm; Emotionally Panicked/Vulnerable State**

Sebastian kept up a steady stream of small talk in his ear as Blaine sat on the bed waiting, clutching the cell phone to his ear with white knuckled fingers. It was a twenty minute drive from the Lima Bean to Blaine's house. Jeff made it there in thirteen.

"Hey, we're in your driveway," Sebastian announced. "Come unlock the door for us?"

Blaine nodded. "I'll be right down," he said, and cautiously opened his own door, checked the surrounding area, and made his way to the front door. Checking through the curtained window, he breathed a sigh of relief to see Sebastian and Jeff standing outside. He opened the door and gesture for them to enter quickly, after which he carefully locked the front door again, making sure the deadbolt was safely locked into place. He smiled wearily at the two boys currently hovering in the front hallway.

"Hey…" he greeted, trailing off. What was he supposed to say? Thank you for coming? I'm sorry I messed up your night? I'm glad you're here because I'm about to lose my mind?

Jeff rescued them from the awkward silence. "I don't remember if I've ever been in your house before," he mused, studying the expensive but rather uninviting decor. "It's very….white."

Blaine laughed slightly. "Yeah, my mother redecorated a couple years ago. She was in her anti-clutter mode. Now everything is white and about as homey as a hotel room. Do you want to come upstairs? At least I got to choose how that looks. It's not quite so…"

"Sterile?" Sebastian suggested.

Blaine nodded, tilting his head in the direction of the stairs, a silent invitation. Sebastian and Jeff followed him up to his room. Blaine made a sweeping gesture into the room, indicating the boys could sit wherever they wanted. He closed the door to his room and locked it. He turned to find Sebastian and Jeff sitting side by side on his bed.

…Which was next to his desk. Which still had that damn blade on it. Blaine panicked internally, heart jumping in his chest as he tried to devise a way to grab it before one of them noticed. He should have thought of it before he let them in, but he had been so _relieved_ at their arrival he had literally forgotten he had placed it there. He was an idiot. He tried to glance surreptitiously at the desk, hoping the small blade wasn't that noticeable.

It was reflecting the light from the desk lamp. Just fabulous. Sebastian and Jeff were two feet away and the stupid thing was glinting like a tiny _beacon_. He was so screwed. Blaine tried to draw their attention towards him. "Are you hungry? Thirsty? We could go back to the kitchen…" Blaine babbled nervously.

Sebastian eyed him suspiciously. "We're fine, Blaine. Are you?"

Blaine coughed nervously. "Why…why wouldn't I be?"

Sebastian glared. "Oh, I don't know. Because you're rambling and nervous?"

Jeff laid a hand on Sebastian's arm, steadying. "Seb.." he reprimanded lowly.

Sebastian sighed. "Sorry. I'm just…never mind." He was watching Blaine with a level of intensity that was frankly making him nervous. "What?" Blaine finally exclaimed, exasperated.

"You're shaking," Sebastian observed. "I don't think you realize it, but your practically vibrating."

Blaine glanced down at his hands. It was true. He hadn't even noticed, but apparently he was so strung out he couldn't even keep his fingers still.

"Blaine…" Sebastian began, "when you called me…what did you want to say? You cut yourself off because you thought you were interrupting. But you must have called for a reason."

Blaine wrapped his arms around himself, nervously. He glanced towards the desk before he could think to stop himself, then quickly tore his eyes away, focusing anywhere else. "It wasn't anything, I was just…bored, and…alone," he tried to reassure, but the damage had already been done.

Both Jeff and Sebastian had noticed his involuntary glance towards the blade on the desk. And it was impossible to miss when anyone was actually looking.

Sebastian's breath caught in his throat. He stared in disbelief. His eyes darted from the blade to Blaine back to the blade. He turned on Blaine, demanding, "Are you kidding me? You didn't…tell me you aren't that much of an idiot!"

Jeff murmured urgently, "Seb.." and carefully picked up the offending piece of metal. Sebastian's face was a mix of horror and fear. Blaine felt his heart tighten. This was a mistake. He shouldn't have called them. He was upsetting Sebastian. He didn't want to upset anyone. He didn't need Sebastian to see how weak he was. Blaine felt the blackness creeping in at the edges of his vision. He couldn't even call the numbers to mind. His mind was just a cataclysm of sound and light, threatening to burn him.

Jeff watched Blaine start to fall into a panic attack and Sebastian silently descend into his own internal freak out and shook his head. He was going to _kill_ them both, after. Right now, they needed to be brought back to reality. He turned to Sebastian and whispered fiercely, "Do not freak out on him. Do not make him feel like you're judging him over this. He needs you. Pull. It. Together!" Sebastian stared at him briefly, until reason seeped back into his eyes. Followed by regret. "I…I just-"

Jeff cut him off. "I know. It's fine. But he needs help right now. And with this, I'm better for him than you. I understand it." He handed Sebastian the blade and instructed, "Go down to the kitchen. Dispose of it. Give me fifteen minutes. Use that time to get your head on straight. And then come back. Understand?"

Sebastian nodded mutely. He threw an apologetic look in Blaine's direction as he left the room.

Jeff locked the door behind him and then turned back around and gently took Blaine's hand and drew him to the bed and sat next to him. He kept his hand over Blaine's, waiting patiently for a few minutes, looking at him with sympathy. He was careful to keep anything that could be construed as judgment from his expression. Eventually, he sensed Blaine's shaking slow. "Blaine," he asked, softly, "I need you to answer me truthfully. Did you hurt yourself with that x-acto knife?"

Blaine shook his head. "Couldn't," he murmured regretfully.

Jeff nodded. He was inclined to believe Blaine. Blaine was wearing a short sleeved shirt, and there wasn't any sign of damage visible on either of his arms. Jeff had been watching. It didn't mean he couldn't have cut elsewhere, but Jeff would take him at his word for the moment, at least until he talked to him and figured out if this was the first time Blaine had thought about it, or they had missed something catastrophically huge with him. Jeff really hoped they hadn't been that blind. He hoped_ he_ hadn't been that blind.

"Couldn't how?" Jeff inquired. "Didn't want to go through with it? Or something else?"

Blaine sighed. "Failed. I fail at everything lately." He stared morosely at the wall in his room, eyes glassy.

Well, that wasn't really what Jeff had wanted to hear. "It's not a failure, Blaine," he reassured. "Not hurting yourself is a _good_ thing."

Blaine just shrugged. "I tried. It didn't…work."

Jeff was beginning to understand the expression 'heart in your throat.' He felt like there was a vice tightening around his chest the more Blaine talked. He was beginning to understand what the others had felt back when he was still cutting. What his parents had felt. He hadn't ever really felt regret for that quite as deeply as he was feeling it now. He tried to figure out what Blaine was attempting to say. "You tried and you couldn't break the skin?" Jeff hazarded a guess.

Blaine nodded. "It's sharp…shouldn't it be easy?" He looked at Jeff, eyes vacant and confused. "Why was it so hard?"

Jeff sighed. He gently held out a hand and touched Blaine's arm. "Where did you try, Blaine? Can you show me?"

Blaine turned his arm palm up and gestured a few inches above his wrist. Jeff gently took his arm in his hands and gently ran a finger over the skin. "It's…the first time is going to be the hardest, Blaine," he explained. "Our bodies are fairly resilient. It takes a fair amount of…pressure…to break the skin." He gestured at Blaine's arm. "You probably didn't notice at the time because it actually takes a few seconds after for the reaction. But you do have a scrape there. Just barely." He sounded sad.

Blaine raised his arm up, staring critically at the spot. Jeff was right. There was a pale slightly reddish line there, like he had lightly scraped against the corner of something sharp. He gazed at it in fascination.

Jeff gently reached out and covered it with his hand. "It's _not_ a good thing, Blaine. Don't get too attached to seeing it. You'll just get caught up in making it worse the next time. And eventually, you will cut through enough to make it bleed. And that will be it. Because the song got it wrong, Blaine. The First Cut isn't the deepest. It's the _hardest_. But once it's done, every one after that becomes the simplest thing in the world." He gently released Blaine's arm and shrugged off his jacket, rolling up the sleeves on his arms. They were a testament to his struggles, both heavily lined with faded white scars, line after line that had once been marked on his arms in metal and blood, and that he could never fully escape. He sighed. His voice was soft and pleading. "Don't go down that road, Blaine. You think you can handle it. You think it will be a one time or occasional thing. But it's an addiction. And you'll just end up hurting yourself and everyone who cares about you."

Blaine's eyes had filled up. He was teetering on the edge of tears actually spilling over. He tried to reign in his emotions. "I don't know what to do, Jeff," he admitted, voice shaking.

"That's okay," Jeff said quietly. "You don't have to know what to do. In fact, right now, there's literally only _one_ thing you need to know how to do. And that's ask for help. It's okay that you're not all right. You don't have to be. But you need to let us help you. You need to let the people who can assist you with what you're feeling _help_ you. All you need to do is call us. Even if you aren't okay, we'll make sure you're safe." Jeff leaned in and clung to Blaine. Blaine clung back, taking comfort in the one boy who was perhaps more scarred physically and psychologically than even he himself was. It didn't solve anything. But at least it gave him hope. There were people who cared about him. He just had to be strong enough to let them in.

Blaine's biggest problem of course had always been admitting when he needed help and letting people in. Jeff knew they had a struggle ahead of them. But they hadn't given up on him. And he wasn't giving up on Blaine. He sat silently, arms still around Blaine, as they waited for Sebastian to come back.


	13. Chapter 13

Blaine startled at a soft knock at the door. Jeff glanced at him, murmured, "Sebastian," and got up and crossed over to the door to unlock it. Jeff stepped out into the hallway. Blaine could hear the sounds of soft conversation.

Jeff reentered the room, Sebastian trailing behind him. He looked sheepish. Jeff hovered by the door. Sebastian dropped down onto the bed next to Blaine. "I'm sorry," he said straightforwardly. "I could have handled that better. I just hate to think of you doing that to yourself. I want to help you Blaine, but that…I didn't know what to do. I shouldn't have freaked out though."

Blaine shrugged. He had scared _himself_ with what he had almost done. He couldn't blame Sebastian for being upset. "It's okay."

Sebastian looked him over carefully. "And you really didn't cut yourself anywhere?"

"No, I didn't." Blaine found himself staring at the faded red line on his arm. "I couldn't do it. I tried…but I couldn't."

Sebastian breathed out a sigh of relief. "I'm glad you couldn't, you idiot," he said quietly. "Why didn't you call me before you got to that point?"

"I thought I could handle it on my own. I didn't want to burden anyone else. I thought about calling someone, but everyone's dealing with their own stuff. They don't need to deal with me freaking out over nothing," Blaine explained.

"It isn't nothing if it upsets you this much," Sebastian corrected quietly. "Do you know what set you off? Was it that your parents left you here alone?"

Blaine couldn't give him an answer. He wasn't sure himself. "I…don't think so? I don't know why. I don't mind being alone normally. It's better than crowds of people, anyways. And I don't usually have an issue in here alone when my parents are downstairs. I just couldn't stop feeling more and more anxious. But I wasn't really thinking about anything that would set it off. So I don't know why…"

Sebastian looked thoughtful. "Well, there probably is a trigger. You may just not recognize it. Little things that set you off."

Blaine glanced around the room blankly. "Well, I don't know what it could be."

Jeff spoke up from his position by the door. "Can you tell us what happened after your parents left? What you did, how you felt? Maybe we can figure it out."

Blaine didn't see how, but he nodded anyway. "They left, I locked up and went back to my room. Turned off the TV, tried listening to music, but I didn't like the song. Tried reading a book, but I couldn't concentrate and I hate the silence. Tried calling Sam, but he's still…having issues and couldn't talk. Went into the bathroom…You know the rest."

Sebastian tried to work through that very condensed version of events in his head, searching for a catalyst. Jeff stood quietly. Blaine sat on the bed waiting for someone to say something. He was feeling increasingly uncomfortable again. He didn't like having to talk about how he was feeling. His felt like there was a weight on his chest, slowly pressing down, forcing the life and vitality out of him and leaving him exhausted and nervous. He shifted uncomfortably. He wished they would say something. He hated the silence.

Jeff was suddenly kneeling down in front of him. Sebastian was watching from beside him with concerned eyes. Blaine hadn't even noticed either of them move. He gazed blankly at Sebastian. Sebastian smiled slightly.

"You zoned out a little. You got kind of…vacant, Something is upsetting you now, isn't it?"

Blaine nodded, then shrugged. Something was, he just wasn't sure what. Or why.

"There's nothing going on," Sebastian mused. "No TV, no music, you're not alone. But something has you bothered. Could it be the quiet? We weren't saying anything. And you have mentioned you don't like the silence."

"I…don't know." Blaine considered. "I've been in other quiet places…without this reaction. But I don't like the silence."

Jeff glanced toward the hallway critically. "It isn't like it's that silent anyway. That grandfather clock is the loudest thing I've ever heard."

Blaine glanced distractedly at Jeff. "What?"

Jeff gestured in the direction of the door. "That clock. The ticking. It's actually kind of distracting."

Now that he was really focusing on something other than Blaine, Sebastian could hear it too. The clock was loud, ticking in time with the swing of the pendulum marking off the seconds.

Blaine had a very confused look on his face. Sebastian watched. It looked like he was slowly coming to some sort of realization. "What is it?" he inquired.

Blaine shot him a glance. "It…could it be that? But I didn't even hear it until you mentioned it. But it would fit…"

Sebastian glanced at Jeff, lost. Jeff just shrugged back at him. "What would fit, Blaine?" Sebastian asked.

"The ticking," Blaine explained, like it should have been obvious.

"What about the ticking?" Sebastian was getting sick of feeling like he was totally lost every time he went to help Blaine. Why would Blaine think he was reacting to a clock?

"In the room," Blaine explained, hesitant, "when…it started, and we moved the furniture to protect ourselves, the metronome fell off the piano. No one dared go out in the middle of the room to stop it, and it just kept swaying back and forth the entire time we were in there…"

"And the noise it made sounded like ticking," Sebastian realized. "Yes, Blaine, that could definitely do it. You're probably so used to the clock you don't consciously even notice it anymore. But your subconscious is hearing it and linking it with the metronome. It would explain why you keep getting panicky. You're reliving that room somewhere in the back of your mind without even being aware of it every time you hear that clock. That's why you've felt like you needed to keep the TV or music going."

Jeff opened the door and walked out into the hall. A few seconds went by, and the ticking suddenly stopped. Blaine blinked in surprise at the silence. "What did you do?" he asked.

Jeff walked back in, closing the door behind him. "I opened the glass door the swinging part is enclosed in," he explained. "I manually stopped it from moving. It won't tick so loudly anymore."

Sebastian nodded his thanks. "Smart, Sterling," he acknowledged.

Jeff grinned slightly. "Well, I try."

Blaine sighed slightly in relief. At least he had an idea why now. That had bothered him almost as much as the actual panic attacks. Sebastian nodded at the other two boys. "Well, at least we've got an idea why what's happening is happening. Now we just need to figure out what to do about it…


	14. Chapter 14

Blaine still sat on the bed, Sebastian pressed up against his side. Jeff had apparently taken up sentry duty, staring at the closed door like he was still glaring at the offending clock _through_ it. Blaine sighed. They had taken so much time helping him, and he was grateful. But he needed to stop relying on them. They had identified and eradicated the problem, so he had no other real reason to make them stay. He should be able to handle this on his own.

"It's getting late," Blaine pointed out. "If you miss curfew, you won't be able to get back in until tomorrow morning. You should head back. You don't need to spend the night babysitting me. I'll be fine.'

He felt rather than saw Sebastian stiffen next to him. He didn't miss the outright exasperated eye roll he shot in Jeff's direction though. He turned to face Blaine.

"You've spent most of the night right on the edge of another panic attack. Less than an hour ago you held a _knife_ to your wrist Blaine! Do you really think we're going to just go skipping back off to Dalton and leave you here alone?"

"Sebastian…" Jeff warned quietly.

"It was my arm, not my wrist," Blaine corrected.

"That doesn't make me feel any better," Sebastian whispered, running his fingers lightly down Blaine's arm, eventually landing on his hand and drawing Blaine's arm out, gently tracing the faded red line Blaine had put there with the blade.

"You'll get in trouble," Blaine warned. "I don't want to make you get in trouble…"

"We won't Blaine," Jeff reassured. "We're seniors. We can leave campus whenever we want, we just can't get back in after 11:30 when they lock everything up for the night. But as long as we're back for classes tomorrow morning, we haven't done anything wrong."

Blaine still thought they should go back. He didn't want to inconvenience them. He would be fine now, and Sebastian was just overreacting. However, sitting so closely, he could feel the fine tremors running through Sebastian's body that seemed to get more pronounced every time he heard something he didn't want to. Maybe it wasn't about him. Maybe it was about making Sebastian feel better. He owed him that.

Blaine squeezed Sebastian's hand, fingers still interlaced with his own. "If you want to stay, you can," he agreed. "But you have to make sure you're not late tomorrow. My parents will be back by then anyway. I'll be fine. I promise."

Sebastian squeezed back. He seemed almost desperate, hand clenched in a death grip. Blaine winced slightly and extricated himself, mumbling softly, "You worry too much."

Sebastian outright laughed at him. It wasn't a happy sound. "You all could stop giving me reasons to worry."

Jeff suggested mildly from the door, "You could stop thinking you're single-handedly responsible for the physical and emotional well being of _every_ friend you have. It's one thing to want to be supportive. It's another to think you have to _save_ everyone."

"I don't think that," Sebastian grumbled.

Jeff rolled his eyes. "You do," he argued. "You're trying to save Blaine, the Warbler's as a collective, me, _who doesn't need it_, thank you very much, and I suspect even Hunter. You're still blaming yourself that you couldn't get him to see reason and stop the steroid madness."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "You're really going to lecture _me_ on blaming myself for the steroids? You're just as bad!"

Blaine kind of wondered if they had temporarily forgotten he was in the room. He doubted either one of them would have ordinarily mentioned anything about whose fault the steroids were. But as long as they were aggravated enough that they had lost a fair amount of their normal filters…

"Why are you two blaming yourselves for that?" Blaine asked, curiously. "That was all Hunter's doing."

Sebastian's head snapped up. He glanced at Blaine. "I let them let Hunter take over as Captain. I mean, it's not like I had a choice, but I knew he would be trouble. I should have pushed harder. But they were hardly going to let me stay on a Captain, not after last year…and what happened with you," he admitted quietly, "and I can't blame them for that. But I _knew_ Hunter was on drugs. He was rooming with me. I saw the signs. And I didn't say anything. I kept trying to get him to admit he had a problem and needed help, but he wouldn't. I should have just reported him the first time I saw him take anything."

"You were trying to get him to admit there was an issue himself," Jeff said. "You didn't think he would accept help if it was forced on him because someone told, and you didn't know he was planning to get us all involved. We've been over this, Sebastian. Yes, you may have handled it wrong, but it came out of a honest desire to help."

"How did you not know he was going to get everyone else involved?" Blaine asked, confused.

Jeff looked uncomfortable. He crossed over to the chair next to the bed and curled up in it, hands wrapped around long legs, and head resting on his knees. He shrugged. "He…didn't exactly just call a meeting and announce that we were going to all start taking drugs. We would have thrown him out of the room. He…took a different approach."

Sebastian sighed. "He isolated us from each other," he explained. "Made us doubt ourselves and our abilities. Made us think we were holding the group back and if we really cared about being a team and winning and not letting every one else down, we would take the steroids. They would make us better, stronger, faster, so we could measure up."

Jeff stared down at his hands. He shifted uncomfortably, stared straight ahead, not looking at either of them as he admitted quietly, "They held out for a while…but someone had to break first…."

Oh. _Oh_. _There_ was the reason Jeff was so down on himself, and the others had been so concerned about him. He had been the first to give in. And the other's had followed after him. No wonder he was feeling guilty.

Sebastian spoke quietly. "Everyone broke, Jeff. It wasn't just you. You need to stop putting all the blame on yourself. We're all just as responsible. We made our own decisions."

"Only because after I let Hunter inject me, there was no point in anyone else holding out," Jeff disagreed. "He held what I did over their heads. They had to go along with it to protect me."

"They went along with it because we all got into this mindset that a stupid show choir competition was more important than our health and our friends," Sebastian spat out. He winced, then backtracked. "Sorry, I'm not mad at you Jeff, I'm mad at all of us. We did everything wrong."

"You lost your way," Blaine commented. "But it sounds like you're trying to find it again. Stop focusing on the mistakes of the past. You need to focus on moving forward."

Sebastian grinned slightly at him. "Did you read that off a Hallmark card, Blainey?"

Blaine glared good naturedly back. "Oh, Shut up. You know I'm right."

Sebastian nodded. "Yes, you are right. We do need to get ourselves back on track. We also need to do something about that woman they dragged in to play Coach." He looked thoughtful. "I'm thinking a Warbler Meeting may be in order next weekend at my house. I need to set up a few things." He turned to Blaine and demanded, "and you're coming too. Once a Warbler, always a Warbler, right?"

Blaine shrugged. He wouldn't mind seeing them all again, he supposed, if Sebastian wanted him there. "I guess? I'll come if you want me too."

Sebastian nodded, content. Blaine wondered what he had gotten himself into.


	15. Chapter 15

Blaine was starting to feel himself drifting off. It had been a stressful night and he was exhausted. He laid his head on Sebastian's shoulder and yawned.

Sebastian glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow. He wondered just when the other boy had become so comfortable with him. Not that he was complaining, but he still had the memory of the slushee incident stuck in his head half the time when he looked at Blaine. Apparently Blaine was serious when he said he intended to forgive and forget. He glanced over at Jeff. "We should probably get some sleep. We'll have to leave by 6:30 to get back in time."

Blaine opened his eyes and gestured towards his bathroom. "If you two want to take a shower or something you can. There are still some of Cooper's old clothes in the other room if you want something to change into to sleep. I doubt you would fit in mine. There are spare toothbrushes in the guest room bathroom. You can sleep in the guest room and Cooper's old room if you wanted…"

Sebastian gently leaned his head over so it was resting again Blaine's. "I would feel better if you just let us stay in here," he said quietly.

Blaine nodded. "You can, I just didn't want to inconvenience you."

"You're not an inconvenience Blaine," Sebastian murmured. He turned to Jeff. "Do you want first shower? See what we can use from Cooper's room and grab and couple of toothbrushes and come back here?"

Jeff nodded. "Sure."

"Hey, Jeff?" Sebastian asked carefully. "You want me to toss the room while you get the stuff?" He nodded his head towards the bathroom.

"Hey," Blaine protested, ready to object. He didn't need Sebastian going through his stuff. He wasn't going to go try to cut again with them there. He was kind of offended.

Sebastian cut him off with a glare and a slight shake of his head. Blaine broke off, slightly confused.

Jeff shook his head. "Not necessary, Seb. It's fine. I promise."

Sebastian sighed and nodded. "If you're sure."

Jeff smiled at him. "Blaine's right. You do worry too much. It's fine, okay?'

Sebastian nodded. "Okay, okay. I'm just checking. Go."

Jeff rolled his eyes and headed out of the room, in search of clothes and toothbrushes.

Blaine waited until he was out of the room to turn to Sebastian. "What was that about?"

Sebastian sighed and turned back to Blaine. "Sorry, I didn't mean toss the room because of you. I meant because of him."

Oh. Well, that made sense. Blaine glanced nervously at the bathroom. "Oh. I thought he was okay?"

Sebastian shrugged. He looked tired. "He's…struggling? He's better than the Coach and teachers seem to think, but he's not as great as he's pretending to be. He took the whole steroid mess to heart. He still blames himself. We're keeping an eye out for him, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at least a little concerned."

"You must be," Blaine murmured seriously. "You're letting him call you Seb."

Sebastian smiled slightly at him. "Yeah. Don't think you can start with the nicknames too. I've got the rest of them trained. Jeff has just always been stubborn."

"He's been amazing tonight…" Blaine mentioned, thinking to Jeff's talk with him about the self injury.

"He's in fixer mode," Sebastian explained. "He's so focused on helping you, he's not paying as much attention to his own problems." He shrugged. "I'm not saying what you did was a good thing, Blaine, because it really isn't. And it kind of scares me. A lot. But the fact that Jeff just had to see what happens when you find someone you care about about to hurt themselves? Might not be such a terrible thing. He can see it from our perspective now. And hopefully by telling you all the reasons it's a bad idea, it will reinforce it for him."

"Glad to be of service," Blaine muttered, wryly.

Sebastian shook his head. "Don't do that," he murmured. "It scared me, Blaine, that you've reached a place where that seemed like an acceptable alternative to whatever was going on in your head. I just don't want to see you get hurt. You need to deal with this…"

"I know." Blaine shrugged. "I just don't know how."

Sebastian's reply was interrupted by Jeff's return to the room, gym clothes and toothbrushes in hand. "There are too many rooms in this house," he stated. "I got lost twice."

Blaine grinned slightly. "Yeah, we don't use half of them. They're just there so we can tell other people we have a kitchen, a dining room, a formal dining room, and a breakfast nook. It's kind of ridiculous."

Jeff deposited the pile on the bed and gestured toward the bathroom. "Anyone else want to go first?"

Sebastian shook his head. "We're fine, go ahead."

Jeff nodded and headed into the bathroom.

Only to return less than a minute later, looking slightly worried.

And carrying an empty orange pill container.

"Blaine?" Jeff trailed off. "This was on the counter. It's less than two weeks old. Shouldn't it…not be empty?"

Blaine had forgotten he hadn't totally cleaned up the mess in the bathroom after he had knocked everything to the floor and got sidetracked by the razor.

_Busted._


	16. Chapter 16

Blaine stared at the small bottle in Jeff's hand, trying desperately to come up with a reason why it was empty.

It wasn't his? No, that wouldn't work. It had his name on it. It was old? No, he was pretty sure there was a date on it. Jeff knew it was only a couple of weeks old. It only had a two week supply? No, it said 30 days right on it. Blaine was fast running out of options. He felt his heart rate speed up. "I...dropped some and lost them?" Blaine tried.

The look Sebastian threw his way had him cringing. Bitter amusement in his voice, he stated mildly, "I might have bought it, Blaine, if you hadn't spent five minutes trying to come up with an answer, and if I didn't have quite such an intimate understanding of what it looks like when someone is trying to downplay a drug...problem."

Blaine shook his head rapidly. Sebastian didn't get it. This wasn't like with the Warbler's and the steroids. He needed them. He couldn't have gotten through some of the days otherwise. And they were prescribed. "This isn't the same thing!" he protested.

Jeff was carefully studying the label. Blaine felt a sense of indignation. They didn't have a right to go through his things. He held out his hand, saying agitatedly, "Jeff, give me those. Why are you going through my stuff?"

Jeff handed the bottle over. "I didn't intentionally go through your things, Blaine," he said quietly. "There was a lot of stuff just kind of thrown on the counter. The empty bottle was open on the counter. I probably shouldn't have looked, but it was right there. And I'm concerned for you. I'm sorry if I overstepped, but that doesn't change the fact that this should not be empty."

Blaine clutched the bottle to his chest, glaring at both of them. He slowly backed up away from them, watching them both with betrayed eyes.

Sebastian threw a concerned glance at Jeff, who shrugged helplessly. Sebastian turned back to Blaine.

"Hey," he corrected, "we aren't judging you, okay? I realize how hypocritical that would be. But you have to realize why we would consider this a problem. Can you just talk to me?"

Blaine shrugged, cradling the bottle protectively. He stared at the label. "It just...the first few days were really...bad okay? Everyone expected me to be the Class President and be strong and set the example and act like it wasn't a big deal. No one was hurt after all. But I just couldn't. My heart would pound and I couldn't catch my breath and I would jump at every little thing. I couldn't concentrate in class. I just...I needed everything to slow down."

Sebastian's glance had softened into something resembling sympathy. Or maybe empathy, Blaine mused. Sebastian could understand being afraid in public, on the edge of a panic attack. But Sebastian was stronger than him.

"You know this isn't the way to do it," Sebastian stated. "You shouldn't take more than what's prescribed. Also, you need to face what you're feeling, not mask it."

"They made me feel like a zombie," Blaine admitted quietly. "They're sleeping pills, but I was too wired anyways. During the day they just made me so tired and numb nothing mattered. I didn't get...scared, on them"

"Because you were barely conscious," Sebastian retorted. "You couldn't think straight, never mind feel anything." He glanced at Blaine's empty desk. "Could you even concentrate on your schoolwork like that? I'm sure this is doing wonders for your grades."

Blaine glared. "I don't care about my grades. I care about getting through the day. I don't know how to get through the day, Sebastian!" Blaine's voice was rising in pitch.

Sebastian strode forward and reached out his hands, cupping Blaine's face and directing it to look directly into his own eyes.

"First of all," he said, sounding exasperated, "you need to stop trying to be Superman. McKinley doesn't need you to lead them all to recovery or whatever. There are teachers and counselors for that. You aren't responsible for taking care of the rest of them right now. You're only responsible for taking care of _you_. You understand me?"

"But-"

"No." Sebastian cut him off. "Blaine, no. You're not okay. I think tonight is a pretty good indication of that." He let go of Blaine and gently reached out a hand, retrieving the pill bottle from Blaine and passing it to a silent Jeff.

Jeff pocketed the bottle, and sat down heavily on the chair next to the bed the other two were sitting on."Blaine," he started hesitantly, "have you talked to anyone about this? A school counselor? Therapist? Anyone?"

Blaine shook his head. "Just the doctor for those pills. And that was five minutes with my mother doing most of the talking. I didn't really say much."

Jeff's fingers were nervously picking at the hem of his shirt sleeves. Blaine felt a twinge of guilt.

Sebastian glanced back and forth between the two of them and sighed. "You're both ridiculous. Blaine, you need to talk to someone. Dealing with it on your own is not working right now. We're staying until morning. I want you to give some serious consideration to how you want to handle this. Do you think you could talk to your parents about therapy?"

Blaine started to object, but was cut off.

"I'm not saying you have to right this second. Just think about it. Tell me what concerns you if you want. Between the two of us, we can probably answer any questions."

Blaine nodded reluctantly.

Sebastian turned his attention to Jeff. "And you and I are having a conversation when we get back to Dalton about recognizing your limits and letting me _know_ when you're about to fall over them."

Jeff stilled. "I'm fine, Sebastian."

"I know," Sebastian acknowledged, "but I want to know you're going to tell me long before you aren't."

Jeff glanced at Blaine, then addressed Sebastian. "Should this really be your priority right now?"

"You're important, Sterling," Sebastian stated simply. "So yes, this is very important right now."

Jeff laid a hand on Sebastian's arm and said with carefully controlled sincerity, "Sebastian. I am safe right now. Blaine is safe right now. I need you to stand down, okay?"

Sebastian let out a shuddery breath and nodded. "Yeah, Jeff, sorry. Control, you know?"

Jeff nodded. "I know." He said quietly. "But you can't control everything. I'm going to take a shower. Then you will. Then we'll sleep. Tomorrow morning we can take a look at things, all right? Right now we're tired and it's late and no one is in the right frame of mind for decision making."

Sebastian nodded. He glanced up at Blaine, maintaining eye contact. "Tomorrow then."

Blaine wasn't sure if he should be grateful or anxious over the idea of finally doing something about it.


	17. Chapter 17

Blaine watched Sebastian and Jeff puttering around his inkitchen, and wondered vaguely when Sebastian had gone from friend to enemy to cautiously tolerated acquaintance back full circle to friend again. Somehow he had become the one person Blaine trusted more than anyone else in dealing with this. Well, both Sebastian and Jeff. He felt a twinge of guilt that those two had taken that position over from Kurt. He...still didn't know where he stood with Kurt. He should really stop avoiding him, this was just making things worse, but he couldn't bring himself to call. Part of him was really hurt that Kurt hadn't called him either. He knew Kurt was trying to give him space, but why did Jeff and Sebastian realize that was the last thing he really wanted or needed, and Kurt just...let him go?

Sebastian's exasperated complaining interrupted his musing.

"You call this coffee? Your parents have a 37 room house! Can't they afford decent coffee?"

"My house does not have 37 rooms, Sebastian," Blaine retorted. "You're being ridiculous. And there's nothing wrong with our coffee."

Sebastian glared at his cup. "Did you buy this at the gas station?"

Jeff handed him a bagel, rolling his eyes. "You're such a snob."

"Sometimes I miss Europe so much," Sebastian replied haughtily.

"No, you don't," Jeff countered. "You hated it there."

"I hated the reason I had to be there," Sebastian corrected mildly. "I love Paris. I just didn't love being unable to stop looking over my shoulder all the time. Or, you know, the panic attacks and therapy visits."

"Please, you love talking about yourself," Jeff snorted. "I'm surprised they didn't diagnose you with Narcissistic Personality Disorder."

"What makes you think they didn't?" Sebastian batted his eyelashes at Jeff, who just threw a stick of butter at him.

Blaine watched the banter with raised eyes. Sebastian glanced at him. "Problem?" he inquired.

Blaine shrugged. "No, I just...you two are kind of..." he broke off, frustrated.

Jeff came to stand beside him and handed him a bagel with cream cheese. "Just say it," he encouraged.

"You both talk about therapy and...mental problems like they aren't a big deal. You're really...open about it," Blaine hedged, hesitant.

Jeff settled in the chair next to him. Sebastian set his coffee on the island across from the other two and leaned on the counter, propping his head up in his hands and watching Blaine. "And you're really uncomfortable with it," he observed. "It isn't like we're going around divulging our complete medical and psychiatric history to the entire student body, but you're right, at this point I think we're both beyond being embarrassed by it under most circumstances."

Blaine slid his fingers over the slight red scratch on his arm. "How?" he asked quietly.

Sebastian tilted his head at him. "How are we not embarrassed by it?" he asked, slightly confused.

Blaine nodded. "How did you...decide to go? Didn't you feel like people would judge you if they...knew?"

Sebastian shrugged. "I wasn't exactly given a choice. By the time I got to Paris, I was a wreck. Everyone had been on high alert for so long I felt like I was jumping at every shadow or noise. My stepmom had gone to stay with her relatives. My dad had me in our house as much as possible when I wasn't in school. After the incident in the bathroom he became even more paranoid. We just fed off each other. Even when I got to France, I didn't feel safe. I was still having panic attacks but they hadn't sent the bodyguard because they figured the criminals reach couldn't get to me in Paris. After a couple nights waking up the house screaming from nightmares where they came and...did what was in the letters, my mother told me I was going to get help whether I cooperated or not."

Even last night, Sebastian's sleep had been restless. Blaine had stared at the ceiling in bed for quite some time, listening to Jeff's even breathing from the air mattress on the floor and sensing Sebastian's constant uneasy moving in his sleep as he lay next to him on the queen sized bed. Sebastian had startled awake a couple of times, Blaine had felt him jolt and wake, only to silently curl into himself and fall back asleep. Blaine hadn't said anything at the time, but he was wondering if Sebastian himself was as recovered as he pretended to be.

"It turned out to be a good thing," Sebastian assured him. "They diagnosed me with PTSD. Which I'm pretty damn sure you've also got. They helped me work through it, Blaine. I'm thinking it might not be a bad idea for you to consider it too."

"My parents made me go too," Jeff offered. "I had been depressed for a while, and they knew that. I had been seeing a psychiatrist who prescribed antidepressants for me, but it was more a medical appointment than a therapeutic one. We've always figured it was more a chemical imbalance than situationally caused. The meds had worked for a while. But...antidepressants can be tricky to give to teenagers. They need to monitor them carefully. I started feeling worse again, then having thoughts of suicide, and I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone, because I didn't feel like I was justified in feeling like that, and I didn't want to worry anyone. I started cutting to cope. It...got pretty far before someone finally caught on. I ended up in the hospital for a little while where they got me sorted out and decided before I could go home that setting up regular therapy sessions would probably be a good idea."

Blaine was slightly floored by Jeff's story. He knew Jeff had a history of self injury, all the Warbler's had. But he hadn't known the story behind it. "It...helped you?" he asked.

Jeff nodded. "A lot, actually. Sometimes it just helps to be able to work out what's in your head with someone who's only job is to listen and help you cope. You don't have to worry about their feelings, or reaction, or about making them upset or worried for you. They're there to help you. And it's freeing to be able to say anything you need to."

Blaine slowly tore his bagel to pieces, considering. He knew he was struggling. And in all honesty, the idea of having someone to talk to about everything was appealing. But he still worried about his parents reaction. His father's in particular. Jeff and Sebastian both had parents who were in favor of them getting outside help. Blaine had the feeling his father would prefer he just deal with it on his own. He didn't want to disappoint him.

Sebastian seemed to sense his reluctance. "You don't want to?" he asked quietly.

Blaine shook his head. "It isn't exactly that," he said. "I just...I don't know if they would want me to."

"Your parents," Sebastian asked.

Blaine nodded. "My...dad, really. I just...I don't want to disappoint him."

Jeff reached a hand out and placed it on his arm, covering the red mark. "You don't think turning to self injury or misusing your prescriptions would make him feel worse?" he asked quietly.

Blaine shook his head furiously. "Not if he doesn't know about them!"

Jeff sighed. "You're heading down a...dangerous path, Blaine. We just don't want to see you get hurt."

"I'm fine!" Blaine protested. "Sure, things are kind of...hard, right now. But I can handle them without getting anyone else involved." He glanced towards the clock. "Don't you two need to get going before you're late for school?"

Sebastian checked his watch and sighed. They did need to leave. If Jeff didn't show up at the guidance office before classes, they could place even more restrictions on him. He didn't really want to leave Blaine like this though. His parents had gotten in late last night and the boys hadn't even seen them this morning. Sebastian was slightly concerned that they hadn't even checked to make sure their son was all right after leaving him alone for the first time since the shooting. They had to have seen the strange car in their driveway when they got home. They hadn't even appeared this morning to see what was going on. Sebastian suspected Blaine would leave for school without ever even seeing his parents. He was slightly disgusted with them, actually. He nodded reluctantly at Blaine. "We do need to leave," he admitted. "But listen to me Blaine, I don't want you feeling like you have to handle this alone. If you get to school today and it becomes to much, or if you just want someone to talk to, I need you to promise to call me or Jeff. I don't care if we'll be in class. I don't care if you think you'll be intruding. If you need to, you call. Otherwise, I'm going to find your idiot parents for a chat right now."

"You can't do that!" Blaine exclaimed.

"I won't have to if you promise to call," Sebastian responded firmly. "Promise me. Now."

Blaine nodded his agreement, clearly still reluctant. "I'll be fine, Sebastian."

When Sebastian and Jeff finally left that morning, it was with a lot of unease. Staring straight ahead in the car, Jeff spoke quietly. "He's going to get worse before this is over, isn't he?"

Sebastian sighed. "I don't know, Jeff. I hope not. But if he doesn't reach out to someone, than yes, probably. We can only pray he calls us before he does something stupid."

"We need to do something," Jeff whispered.

"I'm working on it," Sebastian responded quietly.

**A/N: I really should apologize for not doing this sooner. I need to thank every one of you who has taken the time to favorite, follow, or review Rebuilding. Or just taken the time to read it. There's literally nothing that makes me more excited than seeing a new review or fav/follow. I love you all! And I'm hoping you're all still enjoying. **


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N Warning: A slight amount of behavior that could be construed at self-harming. Nothing severe.**

"Did you have some friends visit last night Dear?"

Blaine glanced back from halfway out the door as he headed out of the house for school. He blinked as his parents casually entered the kitchen and poured the rest of the coffee from the coffeepot into mugs.

"They…were on their way back to Dalton and offered to stop by?" Blaine hedged.

"That's nice," his father offered mindlessly as he scooped sugar into his cup and opened the newspaper. His mother had a slightly nervous smile on her face as she stirred her creamer in with a stirrer.

"You didn't have too rough of a night I hope?" she asked slightly anxiously.

His father looked up from the paper. "Don't coddle him, Dear," he reprimanded mildly. "I told you Blaine would be fine. If his friends want to spend the night that's fine. But he doesn't need you micromanaging his every move. He was fine last night without us, as I told you he would be. If he needed something, he would let us know, wouldn't you Blaine?" His father looked at him expectantly.

"Of course," Blaine agreed uncomfortably, hand still on the doorknob, willing them to just let him leave without an argument between his parents. His father would win in any case, and he wasn't up to assuring them both everything was wonderful. He just wanted to get out the door. He just wanted to get through the week. He couldn't think any farther than just surviving one _day_ at a time. He really wished he wasn't out of sleeping pills. His anxiety level was already heightening. His hand crept towards the faded red line hidden under his shirt and jacket on his other arm.

"Very well," his mother said, smiling slightly at Blaine. "Just…be careful, Dear."

Blaine nodded, continuing out the door, and shutting it behind him. His mother's voice faded as he walked away from the house, her snapped "I don't think you're taking this seriously enough!" echoing in his ears as he got into his car and started it. He doubted she realized she had been loud enough for him to hear as she confronted his father.

It hardly mattered. His father expected him to handle this on his own. He wasn't going to disappoint him. He was an Anderson. Anderson's did not ask for help. He sighed heavily as he turned the car onto the road and headed towards the school. He couldn't help but wonder why Anderson's couldn't ask for help, while it was okay for Smythe's or Sterling's to.

He was half tempted to call Sebastian on the way, just to hear a sympathetic voice. But Sebastian didn't need the pressure. And he was probably in the middle of something already. Living on campus meant days that began earlier and sometimes went later. He wondered how the Warbler's practice would go, using the Adam Lambert song he had found. He could always use that as an excuse to call after school if he needed to. But right now, he needed to get through this on his own.

School was stressful. Everyone was still on edge. The teachers, the students, the Glee Club members. There really wasn't anyone he could turn to during the day if things got to be too much. There was some sort of weird tension between the new kids Blaine couldn't even begin to figure out. Sam was still switching back and forth between himself and his alter so fast that Blaine was frankly almost ready to tackle him to the ground and demand someone go find him professional help. Blaine was really worried about his emotional stability. Tina was alternately overly friendly and withdrawn. Mr. Schue's stress level was steadily increasing the closer to Regional's they got. He had already snapped at Blaine on more than one occasion, and Blaine had fast lost hope in him as any sort of support system. The others, Blaine wouldn't have been comfortable approaching before, let alone now.

Which left him alone, as per usual. He stuck to the shadows, waiting until just before the bell rang when the hallways had mostly cleared out before venturing to his next classroom. He stayed in corners in the rooms, in the cafeteria, keeping as many walls behind him as possible. Less chance of being surprised from behind that way. By the time the final bell of the day rang and he was released from academic purgatory, he was digging his fingernails into both of his palms as hard as he could, focusing on the discomfort rather than the constant noise and movement around him. It was probably not a great way to manage, but he supposed it beat sliding that xacto knife down his arm again, seeing if he could actually break the skin this time. The idea…didn't repulse him the way he supposed it should. Nervously he made his way to the parking lot, sliding his long sleeved shirt up enough to rake his nails down his arm. Sharp pinpricks of pain radiated down from elbow to hand. He breathed a sigh of relief as he slid into the drivers seat, carefully locking all the doors and starting the engine.

He headed for home, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. The Warbler's would probably be just about done with practice by the time he got home. He would have to call Sebastian. See what their coach's response to the song was. He doubted it would be good. It didn't seem to matter what they chose. She was _looking_ to find fault. He just hoped she didn't go pushing Jeff over the edge with her meddling. He turned on the radio, humming absently as he slowly relaxed, the solitude calming his frayed nerves.

Pulling into his garage, he exited the car and headed for his room, noting the conspicuous absence of his parent's cars. Apparently the fact that they could leave him alone last night was the sign they had been waiting for. Blaine sighed wearily as he glanced at the note on the counter explaining they wouldn't be home until late. They had work to catch up on, since they hadn't been in as often the last week or two.

_Because there was a shooting, and you were scared enough for once to actually pay attention to me_, Blaine thought wistfully. _But now you've decided I'm fine and you can continue with your lives. But I'm not…why does everything always have to fit into your list of expectations. Why do you only see what you want, not what is?_

He climbed up the stairs to his room, noting that the clock in the hallway had been reset, pendulum swaying away and clock ticking mercilessly. Blaine rolled his eyes slightly and opened the glass case, halting the pendulum and stopping the clock again. His parents hadn't found the fact that the clock had been stopped odd? They couldn't even comment on it? They just put things back in order to fit their perfect little life. Blaine wondered what would happen when he couldn't fit into their neat little box they had labeled 'Blaine Anderson: Second Heir and Proper Young Man.' He didn't _ever_ want to find out.

He closed and locked the door to his room, settled his books on his desk, and pulled out his phone, debating.

He needed to call Sebastian.

He shouldn't _need_ to call Sebastian.

Sebastian would _want_ him to call.

Sebastian had enough to worry about.

He was curious what happened in practice.

Practice probably hadn't gone well, and Sebastian would be busy trying to reign in a group of aggravated Warblers. He didn't need the distraction.

Curiosity and loneliness won out. Figuring he could just ask about the Dalton Glee Club, and not mention how off centered he was feeling, Blaine dialed Sebastian.

Sebastian picked up on the third ring. Blaine could hear his voice, muffled by what was probably a hand over the phone. "I don't care! Sit there and don't move! I'll tie you to the chair if I have to you idiot! Out of anyone, you would have to manage to…." Sebastian's voice got more muffled until Blaine couldn't understand what he was saying. He waited patiently until Sebastian came on over the line, muttering obscenities under his breath. He suddenly snapped to attention, focus completely on the phone. "Blaine? Is everything all right?"

Blaine stared at the phone in his hand, wondering exactly what was happening on the other end. "Just check your caller ID Seb?" he asked dryly.

"Sorry," Sebastian's voice sounded slightly harried. "I wasn't paying attention when I answered. Trent just made an _enormous_ error. And we're trying to figure out how to fix it._ Idiot_. And don't call me Seb!"

"What kind of error?" Blaine asked, ignoring the nickname complaint.

"The kind where he messes up the choreography and sends a group of Warbler's crashing into the furniture," Sebastian growled, breaking off for another muffled and heated discussion.

"And…that's bad?" Blaine hazarded, slightly confused. People tripped over things all the time. It wasn't exactly a major offense.

"It is when he knocks Jeff into a lamp which proceeds to fall, break into sharp little shards, and end up slicing a gash about four inches long into his arm!" Sebastian snapped. He caught himself and heaved a sigh, breathing deeply. "Sorry."

Blaine had a vaguely sick feeling in his stomach. "It's fine," he assured him. He knew why he was so upset. He would be too. He _was_ too. For Jeff's sake. "She's going to assume he did it to himself, isn't she?"

**A/N: A giant shout of of Thanks here to everyone who has Reviewed/Favorited/Followed/Read Rebuilding. You have no idea how excited every new review makes me. So Thank you to all of you!**


	19. Chapter 19

"I would say that's a fair assumption." Sebastian's voice was irritated over the phone line. "It won't matter if everyone else believes it was an accident. She'll go jumping to conclusions, and she'll drag the rest of them into her conspiracy theories."

"You can't just go to the nurse and explain?" Blaine questioned. "There kind of _is_ a broken lamp backing up your story."

"She'll just say we broke it to cover for him," Sebastian dismissed Blaine's solution. "She's irrational."

There was a muffled exclamation, and Sebastian sighed. "One minute, okay Blaine? Are you all right if I put you on hold for a second?"

"I'm okay," Blaine assured him. He _was_, mostly. His day had sucked, but just being home in the safety of his own room and knowing Sebastian was still on the other end of the call was enough to calm him down. It sounded like Jeff needed assistance more than he did. He idly drew on his notebook with a pen while he listened to the muted conversations going on from the Warbler's end of the line.

Several minutes went by before Sebastian's line suddenly got quiet. Blaine figured he had just left the room. "Sebastian?"

"Yeah, here Blaine," came the subdued voice. "Are you okay?"

"You really need to work on that savior complex of your's, Sebastian," Blaine said mildly.

"Hey, _you're_ the one who called_ me_," Sebastian replied. "So are you okay?"

"Mostly," Blaine responded. "School wasn't that great, but I'm better now that I'm home. What happened with Jeff?"

Sebastian sighed. "Let me get back to my dorm room, Blaine. The entire student body doesn't need to hear this conversation. Did anything specific go wrong at school?"

"No," Blaine assured him. "Just more of the usual low grade panic and sense of impending doom from, like, everyone."

"Well_ theres_ a healthy way to finish out the school year," Sebastian muttered. "Public schools are hopeless. Dalton would have had a much better response plan. Then again, they _did_ hire a woman with psychotic tendancies as our Glee club advisor," he stated, sounding exasperated.

"I did wonder how today's practice went with the Adam Lambert song," Blaine said.

Sebastian laughed softly. "Well, she didn't immediately come up with a list of crazy interpretations," he said. "Of course, we all sang together and made Trent do lead. He's got the least amount of issues out of any of us. And she can't really infer anything about regrets to him because he wouldn't participate in the whole steroids mess. I'm sure she's currently sitting at home trying to come up with something though." He sighed. "Or at least she would have been before this happened."

"You're worried, aren't you?" Blaine could detect the tension in Sebastian's voice.

"It's…I'm not sure how he's going to react," Sebastian said. "Or how _they_ will. We sent Nick and Trent with him to the nurse now to get it bandaged. They'll back up what he says happened. But whether they believe him…" he trailed off.

"She really has that strong an influence?" Blaine questioned.

"She's been given a lot of…control….over the Warbler's," Sebastian explained. "If she decides he's lying she may react as if Jeff were in crisis. Which will be terrible. They'll pull him in for an interview with the guidance office, and if we can't convince them it wasn't deliberate, she'll most likely have them call an ambulance and take him in for a psych evaluation."

"Over one cut?" Blaine was surprised. "That seems…excessive."

"It is!" Sebastian exclaimed. "Under normal circumstances, I doubt they would even necessarily call anyone except possibly the student's parents if they discovered they had been self harming as long as they thought the student wasn't an immediate risk. They would try to figure out a treatment plan, but they wouldn't react by having them _committed_. But she's already half convinced most of us have major issues. It isn't a far jump to assume he's suicidal, at least not in her mind."

"And you don't know what's happening yet?" Blaine asked.

"No. Nick and Trent will tell me after," he replied.

"I'm keeping you from him," Blaine realized. "I should go…"

"Don't you dare!" Sebastian ordered. "Nick and Trent can handle Jeff. Jeff would turn to Nick just as much as he would turn to me. I just have slightly more practical understanding. There's nothing I can do for Jeff right now. So let me help you. You're really okay? You're not just saying that because you think you shouldn't impose on me in the middle of everything else, are you?" he demanded.

"I'm really okay," Blaine confirmed. "I just wanted to talk to someone who wouldn't either try to pry into everything, or totally ignore everything," he explained. "People at McKinley are really hard to deal with right now."

"If you're turning to us as the voice of sanity, you must be in trouble," Sebastian snorted.

"Some days I don't know how I am from one minute to the next," Blaine sighed. "But I appreciate that you let me keep calling and bugging you guys."

"You aren't bugging us," Sebastian said firmly. "And you're going to continue to call me every day after school until Saturday, or I'm going to show up on your doorstep. Understand me?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. "You're getting as paranoid as your coach, Seb."

"Don't call me that," Sebastian automatically answered. "I would have thought you would have already realized that, Blaine. I have control issues. I've been told so on multiple occasions."

"You need to know what's going on with everyone all the time, don't you?" Blaine asked. "It's driving you nuts not knowing what's happening with Jeff yet."

"I let my guard down for a few weeks, Blaine," Sebastian complained, "and Hunter completely messed everything up for everyone. And nearly broke Jeff. Who's currently in the process of cracking. Again. So, yes, I prefer it when I'm completely aware of everything happening around me."

"Can I ask you a question?" Blaine questioned hesitantly.

"Am I going to dislike this question, Blaine?" Sebastian asked, noting the timidness. "Go ahead."

"Why did you go along with it?" Blaine asked quietly.

"What, the steroids?" Sebastian questioned.

"Yes."

Sebastian sighed. "The irony there is I was actually one of the last ones Hunter approached. At that point he had already talked Jeff into it, and coerced most of the others through intimidation, blackmail, or mind games. I wasn't happy with it, but…" he shrugged. "It's not the worst thing I've ever done, Blaine. To be perfectly honest, there were a couple of really bad decisions involving recreational drugs in Paris. Which I now realize were reckless and stupid," he hastened to explain, "but somehow, the steroids didn't seem as…bad…as what I had already done. And if I refused, I would have been kicked out. And I love the Warbler's. I didn't want to chance losing it. Them. And I was worried about Jeff. I figured I had to make sure I could keep an eye on him. I could hardly turn them all in. So….I went along with it. I realize they weren't good enough reasons. But…I can't change them now."

"It was a really difficult situation to be put in, I'm sure," Blaine murmured. "I'm not judging your choices, Sebastian."

Sebastian sighed. He started to speak, but was cut off by a low beeping noise. "Blaine…Nick's calling. Can I call you right back?" Sebastian asked anxiously.

"Of course," Blaine responded. "Go find out what happened."

"Thanks," Sebastian said distractedly, and switched the phone call over.

Blaine sat in his chair, waiting for the call to come back. He hoped things had ended up okay for Jeff. But it hadn't sounded like that was very likely.


	20. Chapter 20

Blaine waited patiently on the line for ten minutes, until he realized that there was probably a problem if Sebastian hadn't switched back to him yet. He hung up the phone and sent a quick text demanding that Sebastian call him back when he figured out what had happened with Jeff.

He idly scrolled through his contact list, debating calling someone else just to talk until Sebastian called back, but he didn't want to be in the middle of something when the Warbler's returned his call. He sighed as he closed out the list. In all honestly, there weren't very many names on it he would have been willing to call anyway. He toyed with the idea of calling or texting Kurt, but the slightly vindictive little voice in his head was still wondering why Kurt didn't contact him. If this didn't motivate him, Blaine was beginning to wonder if anything would.

His thoughts were interrupted by his ringtone. He glanced at the number for confirmation, and picked up the call. "Sebastian?"

"Sebastian's cell," came the reply. "Sebastian can't come to the phone right now. He's currently having a tantrum like a three year old. Hello Blaine."

Blaine blinked. "Nick?" he asked uncertainly.

"In the flesh," came the response. "Or unembodied voice, as the case may be. We figured you were probably wondering what was going on and Sebastian is too busy muttering death threats to converse like a normal human."

There was a muffled loud voice and a crash. Blaine pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it like maybe it could interpret for him. He put it back to his ear. "Uh, Nick?"

"...and you can have it back at the end of the school term if you behave!" Nick's voice came back on the line, louder with each word. "Sorry, Blaine, he tried to grab the phone. He's not talking to anyone until he _calms down_!" Nick's voice stated pointedly. Blaine suspected the last sentence was directed more at Sebastian himself. Blaine just flopped down on his bed and held the phone to his ear, listening to Nick argue with what Blaine was assuming was Sebastian.

"Um...Nick?" Blaine attempted hesitantly.

Nick responded immediately, "Yes, Blaine?"

"Jeff?" Blaine asked simply. He was slightly nervous. Whatever happened probably was not good if Sebastian was currently having a fit over it.

"Jeff is still in the office," Nick explained. "He was talking to his parents on the phone when I left. I called Sebastian to tell him what happened and he came to the conclusion the proper way to handle the matter would be to call the entire guidance staff here a bunch of imbeciles, insult the coach's upbringing, intelligence, education, and I'm pretty sure appearance and possibly mother, and threaten to come down to the office himself. I figured it would probably be better if he didn't actually share his opinion with the staff as he had with me. He seemed to disagree. So instead of staying with Jeff, I'm currently babysitting an irate Warbler who's regressed into a temperamental toddler."

Blaine had, on a few occasions in the past, seen Sebastian when he got worked up about something. It wasn't a pretty sight to behold. And this was a much worse situation than anything Blaine had ever seen Sebastian angry over. "He does realize he's not actually helping anything, right?" Blaine asked, just to be clear.

"He doesn't seem to care," Nick replied dryly. "I understand why he's upset. We'll just let him work it out of his system. He's smart enough to only do this in front of the people who can actually handle it," he said, sounding exasperated. "It's his way of working through things. He'll go back into fixer mode as soon as Jeff shows up." Blaine could practically hear Nick's eyes roll.

"What happened with Jeff, Nick?" Blaine asked again.

There was more background noise. Nick's reply was half aggravated and half defeated. "Sebastian would like to inquire before we discuss Jeff if you're still doing okay. He's trying to decide if he should continue with his righteous indignation or if he needs to dial it back and talk you down from a ledge or something." He broke off and snapped at Sebastian, not even bothering to cover the mouthpiece, "Shut up, Sebastian. We'll handle it. We always do. And mentioning ledges isn't insensitive. He's most likely got PTSD, he's not suicidal."

Blaine shook his head. "Talking to you is nothing like talking to Sebastian," he said with a slight grin.

"That's because Sebastian is constantly weighing and measuring everything he says and overthinking things to death," was Nick's immediate response. "He's going to drive himself crazy from the stress. He'll end up in the hospital long before the rest of us."

Blaine couldn't hear Sebastian's reply, but he had no doubt it was snippy.

"Don't you dare leave this room!" Nick ordered. "Don't make me call Trent to come sit on you."

"Would he really?" Blaine asked, fascinated.

"Sit on him? If necessary," Nick responded. "Listen, Blaine, I'm going to give the phone back to the idiot. Maybe he'll settle if he has someone to focus on. Try to make him behave, yeah?"

"I'll try my best," Blaine responded agreeably.

"I will take it away again," Blaine heard Nick threaten before there was a shuffling and then Sebastian's voice. "Blaine?"

"You sure do know how to keep things lively, don't you?" Blaine said fondly, rolling his eyes. "If Trent ends up sitting on you, I want them to send me video. What happened with Jeff, Sebastian?"

"Charming to talk to you too," Sebastian responded sarcastically. "They're just not taking this seriously enough. They're going to push him right back into cutting. Morons. And no one seems to _recognize_ the need for concern!" he sniped louder. Nick's reply was too muffled to hear.

"Sebastian, would you focus?" Blaine demanded.

"Sorry," Sebastian grumbled. "So they took him to the nurse, and explained what happened. And sure enough, they have their doubts that we're telling the truth. Or they think it could trigger something in him. Or they just don't trust him. I have no idea, the story kept changing to suit their plans. The good news is they aren't going to take him in right now, so at least he won't have to deal with that. The bad news is they're concerned enough that they're going to require a body check every day. Which basically means he strips down to bathing suit levels of non-dress, and they document any injuries. However, if he's honest with them and admits to any new cuts, they won't force him to do the check. So what does that tell you, Blaine?" Sebastian asked, sounding incredibly irritated.

It took a second, but Blaine made the connection. "He's better off if he cuts," he whispered, horrified.

"Exactly," Sebastian said bluntly. "If he stays strong and keeps battling this, they're going to basically humiliate and question him every day. If he just gives in and slices his arms up like I'm pretty sure he actually_ wants_ to do, all he has to do is admit it and he gets a pass. And they're requiring him to go to therapy anyway, so he has virtually _no_ motivation to even try any more. And he's already struggling. I know he is. And they've basically just flat out told him they _expect_ he won't be able to hold it together. What am I supposed to do to fix that, Blaine?" he asked desperately.

"You can't," Blaine murmured softly. "All you can do is keep reminding him why it isn't a good idea. And that you're there for him if he needs it. And if it _does_ happen, you'll deal with it then. You're a good friend, Sebastian, you'll see that he get's what he needs from the Warbler's to fight against whatever's going on in his head despite the stupidity of the teachers."

Sebastian laughed ruefully. "Aren't I supposed to be comforting you, Blaine?" he murmured. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Blaine responded immediately. "I'm not. It's good for me to be able to help sometimes instead of always being the one needing it. And you put too much on your shoulders, Sebastian. You don't need to save everyone singlehandedly. Nick's right. You'll stress yourself out."

"I'll be fine, Blaine," Sebastian assured him quietly. "It's in my nature." They sat in silence for a few moments until Blaine admitted with a sigh, "I should probably go, Sebastian. I've got homework to get through."

"And I should go check on Jeff," Sebastian said softly. "You're sure you're all right if I hang up Blaine?"

"I'm fine," Blaine said firmly. "Take care of yourself, Sebastian."

"I always do," Sebastian responded with forced cheerfulness. "Bye Blaine."

Blaine ended the call, shaking his head. He wasn't sure at this point who was headed for a breakdown faster, Jeff, himself, or Sebastian.

He resolved that tomorrow after school he would call Jeff. No matter what.


End file.
